He will wish to have his fears laid to rest. I believe you have had it pulled down, have you not?” “The Misses Pellissier!” he exclaimed. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. Charley Pevenill was our host.
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