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“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. A lovely, fetching girl. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. " "Of course," rejoined Quilt, maliciously; "every thief is so. To-night we leave for Marseilles. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. " The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose.
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