"Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack. Only it was with a further and most unbelieving shrug of the shoulders that he resumed his seat. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. Mild, you know, and boon. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. ” “How?” He asked. ” He left the room, and she stood motionless, with flaming cheeks, listening to his retreating footsteps.
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