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"What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. . 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. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. " Starting at a rapid pace in the direction of the Old Bailey, and crossing Fleet Bridge, "for oyster tubs renowned," the trio skirted the right bank of the muddy stream until they reached Fleet Lane, up which they hurried.
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