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. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. “All the time he is shouting and muttering. ‘It does not matter to me if he comes or no, madame. “My mom is making duck. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. . “Enter Sir John, very honest, very much in love with me. Whenever I feel particularly gregarious, I take the launch and run over to Copeley's and play poker for a couple of days. So he shut his eyes. “To my chagrin, I have.
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