“What can one do?” asked Ann Veronica. However this may be, such was the ill report of the place that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer still, of those who paused at the door, read, without some internal trepidation, the formidable name—inscribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate—of JONATHAN WILD. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. How did you meet him?’ ‘He was wounded and came to the convent for sanctuary,’ Melusine told him, stung by his criticism into revealing more than she had intended.
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