’ ‘I have no game. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. Ah!" she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, "there is Jonathan Wild!" "Betrayed!" exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. . She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate.
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