From then on he was Ruth's dog. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. Little by little Sebastian gave to her the story of how she came to be abducted. 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. Every moment.
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