There were letters there directed to Noel. Dove would have dearly
liked to acquaint himself with their contents, but he was a slow and
deficient reader. Some cigars lay in a little cigar-case at one end.
Dove, as a matter of course, and without weighing the question at all,
slipped a couple into his pocket. After doing this he did not feel
quite so virtuous, nor so like the proverbial British workman; he
jingled some of Daisy's sovereigns in his pocket, and laughed when
they made a pleasant sound. Still eagerly peering at all the articles
on the mantel-piece his quick eyes presently detected amongst a heap
of rubbish and odds and ends Noel's valuable signet-ring; it was of
heavy workmanship, and its gold alone made it worth money.
"Why, Isaacs the Jew would give me two pound ten, or perhaps three
pounds for this," queried Dove. "It has plainly been forgotten here,
and if the gent does miss it he'll lay the blame on that fine fellow
Lawson."
It took a very small parley with Dove's seared conscience to make him
pocket the ring, and by the time Lawson returned to the house the
five-pound note had also been appropriated. Dove whistled more
cheerily than ever over his work that afternoon, and in the evening he
went home quite unsuspecting any little trap which might have been set
for him.
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