At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. The spectacle seemed to afford as much amusement to Jonathan as to the actors engaged in it. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. Only the next of kin. “Please forgive me, Lucy. People were passing in the street below. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. ‘What a catalogue. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild.
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