Wood became sensible that he was not alone. He cannot. "You'll not be offended, I hope," returned Wood, drily, "if I say that your voice, your manner, and, above all, your very extraordinary way of laughing, put me strangely in mind of one of the 'droll dogs,' (as you term them,) who helped to perpetrate the outrage I've just described. 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. God had never answered any of her prayers. The spirit of disaffection was busy throughout the kingdom. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious. You have taken my dagger. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly.
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