When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés. But though he made Blueskin and Kettleby his chief marks, he missed both. And so bitterly did the carpenter reproach himself with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go back in search of it.
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