But since we must have toasts," he added, snatching up a glass, "listen to mine: Here's King George the First! a long reign to him! and confusion to the Popish Pretender and his adherents!" "Bravely done!" said Wood, with tears in his eyes. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. Mr. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. We shall become a prey to the Philistines, and must turn honest in self-defence. Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. “Mean as an old mule, too. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her. She fidgeted and looked away.
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