There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. . At one time, she determined to go to Wych Street, and ask Mr. ’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. ‘Mademoiselle. He probably imagines himself to be a thousand times worse off than he actually is. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. “Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary.
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