“Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. Since Jack has left us, what does it matter whether he's pleased or not?" At this moment, a whistle was heard. ” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. "I will, when I catch him, rely on it," rejoined Wild. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. The woollen-draper looked at his watch.
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