You see me here, an admitted failure in the object to which I have devoted two years of my life. ‘Ah, no,’ Gerald uttered at once, lowering his voice and infusing it with all the promise he could command. 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. ‘What a fate he finds for me.
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