“Then what did you do?” Lucy’s eyes leveled with her. " "You're a philosopher, too. 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. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him.
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