I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. Wood, reproachfully, as they returned to the parlour. "Thames, I entreat—" "Your wishes are my laws, beloved, girl," replied Kneebone, bowing profoundly. ” He smiled at her. Solomon Smith seemed to be Mr. \" Lucy winced. Moving to the shuttered window, Melusine dragged the heavy drapes back. Around him were all the evidences of plenty. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed.
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