The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. We were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot. Why, Nab, you shake as if you'd got an ague?" he added, turning to the Jew, whose teeth chattered audibly. “Certainly her voice is far more musical. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. “Tell him to drive—anywhere,” she exclaimed. 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. “It’s okay Lucy. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child.
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