She guessed Jack was having trouble finding the right piece of carving. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. "I'll see him fettered myself. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. She cursed herself for a fool. "You two will have this island by the ears," he said, wiping his eyes. "He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. She might even forgive him. ToC Monday, the 31st of August 1724,—a day long afterwards remembered by the officers of Newgate,—was distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the Lodge.
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