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. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. "She has, she has," said Jack, in a broken voice. 1. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened.
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