O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. . “Well,” she admitted. ‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. Did he talk a little when you took him into the city?" "No. 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. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women.
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