"The plot's out!" cried Jack. So Monday, when I see one of the maids come out with a basket, for to go fetch summat for that other Frenchie—the female as I told you about, miss, as is forever coming and going with the nobs. Finding it impossible to descend on any side, without incurring serious risk, Jack resolved to return for his blanket, by the help of which he felt certain of accomplishing a safe landing on the roof of the house in Giltspur Street. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. I don’t care if you never tell me any of your secrets. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go.
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