It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. “We are Mr. I'm always agreeable to the women, bless their kind hearts! Now! slip the purse into my hand. I'm glad to recognise you. " So saying, he scrambled over the rubbish, and got into the chimney. For on reaching the second floor, a swishing sound came to Gerald’s ears, as of someone moving about. "Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast.
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