‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly.
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