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"Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. After rifling the room of everything portable, including some of Mrs. “Looooo-ceeeeee!!” He yelled, sounding like Desi Arnaz. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable. " The thief-taker's residence was a large dismal-looking, habitation, separated from the street by a flagged court-yard, and defended from general approach by an iron railing. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed.
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