He hesitated. "What has put it into your head that your son yet lives?" he asked. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. I think that I am very fortunate to have it to sign. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. ToC If there is one thing on earth, more lovely than another, it is a fair girl of the tender age of Winifred Wood! Her beauty awakens no feeling beyond that of admiration. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark.
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