" "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. " "Zounds!" cried Marvel, "I—" "Hush!" whispered the tapstress, "or I retract my promise. .
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