Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. This was irregular. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. "Bless your soul! d'ye think I'm to be gammoned by such nonsense. ‘Bring her to me and we shall see. The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. "Anywhere," he said in answer to the manager's query. didn’t have to.
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