" "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. ” “Yes, it is. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. A lucky escape. ” And while he talked and watched her as he talked, she answered, and behind her listening watched and thought about him. Mr. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book.
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