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Though he practised the more glorious crafts of pickpocket and shoplifter, he did not despise the begging-letter, and he suffered his last punishment for receiving what another's courage had conveyed.

He might be an influential writer or politician, but he never gets beyond spouting in a pot-house debating club, and even that chance of distinction does not come unless he has written an unusually successful begging-letter. Here too is the broken professional man.

As they loitered on the lawn, Henry the footman came out with a salver, and on it reposed a soiled note. Henry presented it with demure obsequiousness, then retired grinning furtively. "What is this a begging-letter? What a vile hand! Look, Lucy; did you ever? Why, it must be some pauper."

They rented no land, and they followed no trade, and they took no alms by land or post; for the begging-letter system was not yet invented. For the house itself they paid a small rent, which Jordas received on behalf of his ladies, and always found it ready; and that being so, he had nothing more to ask, and never meddled with them.

A man who cannot resist an application for shelter and supper from any stray cur who wags his tail at him in the street; a man who blindly believes in the troubles of begging-letter impostors; a man whom I myself caught, last time he was down here, playing at marbles with three of my charity-boys in the street, and promising to treat them to hardbake and gingerbeer afterwards, is in short, is not a man whose actions it is possible to speculate on."

Gammon mused, and it occurred to him in his knowledge of the world that Greenacre's connexion with the house of Bolsover might be that of a begging-letter writer. There might have been some slight acquaintance in years gone by between this strange fellow and young Lord Bolsover subsequently made a source of profit.

"It was in the interest of science," he said, ultimately. "There was a costermonger family on the floor below, a begging-letter writer in the room behind mine, and two flower-women were upstairs. Perhaps it was a bit thoughtless. But possibly some of them were out. "When I came back the thing was just where I left it, among the white-hot coals. The explosive hadn't burst the case.

"No yes I was a little troubled...." she said, feeling the warmth of his touch flow through her hands reassuringly. "Dear! What about?" She drew a deep breath. "The letter " He looked puzzled. "What letter?" "Downstairs...when we came in...it was not an ordinary begging-letter." "No? What then?" he asked, his face clouding. She noticed the change, and it frightened her. Was he angry?

"He evidently thinks the vouchers sent him are the advertisements," screamed little Sampson. "But if he is as ignorant as all that, how could he have written the letter?" asked Raphael. "Oh, it was probably written for him for twopence by the Shalotten Shammos, the begging-letter writer." "This is almost as funny as Karlkammer!" said Raphael.

"What is it?" he asked dubiously, scenting a begging-letter writer in the tall slim figure and closely-veiled face, and being on principle averse from gentility that did not ride in its carriage. "What is it, young woman?" "Can I see Lady Laura Armstrong? I want to see her very particularly." "Have you got an appointment?" "No; but I wish to see her." "You're from Madame Lecondre's, I suppose.