“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. His exploits and escapes are in every body's mouth. Thames Street was wholly impassable. He did his best not to grin. ‘Possibly,’ he said. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. A town called Foster. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. She glared at him with satisfaction. Every one else does.
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