"How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. Fifteen from forty is twenty-five. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. Ruth out of the picture, he wouldn't have concerned himself so eagerly in regard to Spurlock's departure. Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner. Then he had gone away. "With the help of his comrade, Jack Sheppard, the young rascal made a bold push to get out of the round-house, where my janizaries had lodged him, and would have succeeded too, if, by good luck,—for the devil never deserts so useful an agent as I am, Sir Rowland,—I hadn't arrived in time to prevent him. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it.
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