“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. The Tigress went prowling for nut, too. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. "He never let me keep a dog or a cat about the house. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. It was a moment of breathless interest to all engaged in the attempt.
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