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. " "Man, she's your wife!" "And I am a thief. . ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. " A detective. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion. They set about everyone—everyone. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon.
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