I'll lay my life he's gone. . A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. 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. What were you doing at Remenham House? I can’t puzzle that bit out. . She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground.
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