" The woollen-draper replied by gallantly handing her the box, which was instantly snatched from her by Blueskin, who, after helping himself to as much of its contents as he could conveniently squeeze between his thumb and finger, put it very coolly in his pocket. He was standing at the moment close to the hatch, with his ear at the keyhole, and received a severe blow in the face. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. My mother really wants to meet you.
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