"The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. However this may be, such was the ill report of the place that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer still, of those who paused at the door, read, without some internal trepidation, the formidable name—inscribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate—of JONATHAN WILD. A thin line of red appeared in the white neck. Mrs. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said. . She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep.
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