In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. He opened the drawer of the writing table. The Closing Scene. "He would return my letters unopened or destroy them. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. And I get myself dirty. Good riddance.
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