’ A faint smile crossed Gerald’s lips. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. But, as you perceive, I brought it away with me. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six.
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