Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. The Committee of Secrecy—that English Council of Ten—were sitting, with Walpole at their head; and the most extraordinary discoveries were reported to be made. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter. ’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. Give him this letter, child, and bid him take it to the Lodge at Newgate without loss of time. It gave her joy to see them laughing, even though she was unsure of what she had done wrong. But he tells them that I am a spy. .
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