But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. “She’s all right. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. ’ Joan sniffed.
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