The Well Hole 336 XIII. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. I had to ask Mr. Later on—well then the time may come. Roused by Ben's warning, the carpenter looked up and could just perceive the dusky outline of the bridge looming through the darkness, and rendered indistinctly visible by the many lights that twinkled from the windows of the lofty houses. Promise me. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. None presented themselves to save him from that return. Then, there's Mr. Adieu!" And, snatching a hasty kiss, he darted after Jack.
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