She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. “Forty guineas a week. It was as if he could smell it on her. There it is. Giles's, and other places—but I've nowhere seen any one who came up so completely to my notion of a first-rate housebreaker as the individual before us.
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