ToC Jack Sheppard, after whistling to Blueskin, hurried down a short thoroughfare leading from Wych Street to the back of Saint Clement's Church, where he found Thames Darrell, who advanced to meet him. “Have either of you been out of this room since you discovered what had happened?” he asked. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. ’ ‘This is not a new thing,’ Melusine snapped, goaded. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened him to that crafty animal, and it must be owned the general formation of his features favoured such a comparison. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion.
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