Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. In this state it would have been all over with him, as, being stunned by the fall, it was some moments before he could recover himself, if another party had not unexpectedly come to his rescue. And immediately afterwards the curtain was drawn aside, and disclosed the Satanic countenance of Jonathan Wild, who had crept into the house unperceived, "I'll tell you, why he can't go back to his master," cried the thief-taker, with a malignant grin. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. I hid because there was no other way of seeing you. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion.
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