They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm.
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