” “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, “I agree to that. The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. We’re handfuls. And yet, on the very site of the sordid tenements and squalid courts we have mentioned, where the felon openly made his dwelling, and the fraudulent debtor laughed the object of his knavery to scorn—on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and whose memory breathes of loyalty and valour. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. ‘Not in the open street. Well, whenever you say, I promise to do away with the mystery. Ireton will do no such thing," replied the head-turnkey. “It was only yesterday I had your letter, and you never mentioned coming over.
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