CHAPTER III.
LODGERS.
"Depend upon it, Sidney, you'll never set eyes on that brooch again."
"I'm not so sure about that," was the half-confident reply.
"And depend upon it, you don't deserve to see it, boy—and that I for one shall be glad if it never turns up."
"Pa!—you really can't mean it."
"You told a lie about it, Sidney, and though you saved the girl from prison, yet it was a big, black lie all the same; and if luck follows it, why it's clean against the Bible."
"The girl looked so pitifully at me, you see—and I did think she might give the brooch back, out of gratitude."
"Gratitude in a young thief out of Kent Street?" laughed the father; "well, it's a lesson in life to you, boy, and, after all, it only cost twelve and sixpence."