She had begun alone. "What a very remarkable thing it is," he observed, applying to his snuff-box, "that Thames Darrell, whom we all supposed dead,"—Kneebone in his heart sincerely wished he had been so,—"should turn out to be alive after all. She pulled, he rose to his feet. ’ ‘Yes, I know,’ Gerald put in with an irrepresssible chuckle. "But, perhaps, he has not got beyond the room above. They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery. As usual the substantive sister—Prudence—did all the talking for the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods. . . It’s no good. " "Then we won't even show you that mercy," retorted the thief-taker brutally. Wood gave the required promise, though he could not help thinking that if either of them had cause to be jealous he was the party. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration.
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