At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. " "Och! if he's a friend o' yours, my dear joy, there's no more to be said; and right sorry am I, I struck him. 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. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. ” “We’ve come past it, miss,” the man answered, with a note of finality in his gruff voice.
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