“I was in Paris four years ago,” Mr. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. If he escapes at all, it must be before our faces. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. This circumstance produced no further alteration in his demeanour except that he endeavoured to abstract himself from the surrounding scene, and bend his attention to the prayers which the ordinary was reciting.
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