The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. But she did not listen long; she wanted to talk. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market. He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. ’ ‘I swear to you, it is the exact truth,’ he protested. But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do.
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