Kneebone, who had drained his glass to the restoration of the house of Stuart, and the downfall of the house of Hanover, more frequently than was consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest humour possible. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. " "Not quite," rejoined the thief-taker, significantly. But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. ‘Go then. " "A miniature! Of whom?" "That I can't say," replied Jack, mysteriously.
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