"Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. Dump popped his head into the cage. “I shall probably want you to come down to the ‘Unusual’ to-morrow morning,” he said. People ran out of their shops to join the pursuit; and, by the time Wild had got into Field-lane, he had a troop of fifty persons at his heels —all eager to assist in the capture. I believe I am doomed to be an old maid. He walked with bent head.
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