An hour was then passed in conversation as to the possibility of rendering any assistance to Jack; in deploring his unhappy destiny; and in the consideration of the course to be pursued in reference to Jonathan Wild. ‘The wretch said nothing to anyone. “Who from?” She met his eye for a second and her heart failed her. Men are against her. Almost the last female to bear the name, too,’ muttered the old lady. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test.
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