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"But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. ” Lucy commented. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. That night in his den he smoked many pipes. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea.
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