“Cheveney!” she repeated. . 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. She was as fair as the lily of the lotus. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. ” “Yes. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen.
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