She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. This was irregular. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. "Here's a pistol!" cried Thames, darting towards the undischarged weapon dropped by Blueskin in the scuffle, and pointing it at Jonathan. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town.
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