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. ‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly. " "Vouldn't it!" replied Jack, mimicking his snuffling voice; "then shtay vere you are, and be cursed to you. ” She said, ignoring the absurdity of her own statement. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor.
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