Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you. She turned on the lad with her, who was visibly relieved.
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