He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. With a little sigh of happiness she accepted this new thing. It was a mad half-hour. She had just managed to reach it, grabbing for the handle, when the enemy’s cracked command halted her. " "The boy's not at my house," replied Wild. He was standing at the moment close to the hatch, with his ear at the keyhole, and received a severe blow in the face. But kill me rather than commit this outrage.
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