At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the
room, and sprang to her feet. “I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled myself. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. "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 came down
the shop looking for her quite obviously, and took up a position on the other side
against a mirror in which he was able to regard her steadfastly. Two-and-twenty! I can’t imagine what your parents can be thinking about to let
you get into these scrapes. "
CHAPTER XIX. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous
professionalism creeping into her voice. Do you
promise to do this?"
"Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter.
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