Presently he felt motion. The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. She had thought to wear it now, since she must look more the demoiselle. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. He next searched for his stockings and shoes, and when found, put them on. “This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. He was now as civil as he had just been insolent. " "True, true," replied the knight, with an agonized look; "there is no alternative. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL.
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