troubled over the matter, saying to himself, "Then, by Jove, I'm afraid
the Marchioness is done for!"

The more he discussed the subject in his thoughts, the more probable it
appeared to Dick that the miserable little servant was the culprit. When
he considered on what a spare allowance of food she lived, how neglected
and untaught she was, and how her natural cunning had been sharpened by
necessity and privation, he scarcely doubted it. And yet he pitied her
so much, and felt so unwilling to have a matter of such gravity
disturbing the oddity of their acquaintance, that he thought, rather
than receive fifty pounds down, he would have the Marchioness
proved innocent.

While the subject of the thefts was under discussion, Kit Nubbles, a lad
in the employ of a Mr. Garland, passed through the office, on his way
upstairs to the room of the Brasses' lodger, the single gentleman, who
was an intimate friend of Kit's employer. The single gentleman having
been confined to his room for some time by a slight illness, it had
become Kit's daily custom to convey to him messages and notes from Mr.
Garland, and not infrequently Sampson Brass would detain the lad in the
office for a few words of pleasant conversation.

Having discharged his errand, Kit came downstairs again, finding no one
in the office except Mr. Brass, who, after greeting him affably,
requested him to mind the office for one minute while he ran upstairs.
Mr. Brass returned almost immediately, Mr. Swiveller came in too, at the
same instant, likewise Miss Sally, and Kit, released, at once set off on
a run towards home, eager to make up for lost time. As he was running,
he was suddenly arrested and held in restraint, by no less a person than
Sampson Brass himself, accompanied by Mr. Swiveller.