She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. ‘Go then. "No—Sheppard?" rejoined Wild. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. Good night. How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI.
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