“Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Good-bye aunt. ‘Come inside at once, child. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. ‘One thing at a time, missie. U. Cathy answered the phone. His lips were tight drawn. 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.
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