He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. The sight of the thief-taker increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree. ‘I am not a person, Marthe. And to think that man got it all out of the poorest little love-story for a respectable titled lady! Have you read of it?” “Never.
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