He reeled, and crashed to the floor. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of St. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. Wild is incapable of such baseness. Utter silence answered him. 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.
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