Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. “Let me see,” he said. She lied.
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