. . . I don’t care what else there is in the world. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. If you hang Jack Sheppard, you'll cut off the flower o' the purfession. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. He turned back at once. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away.
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