“I have not the least idea who he is. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. ‘But lay him down. “This is all rot!” he declared angrily. The packets were hastily broken open; and, while Wood was absorbed in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter which he had been prevented from finishing on the fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. You need fear no interruption from him, or any of his myrmidons. It’s these damned novels. The unfortunate prisoner, meanwhile, who was not informed of the respite, languished in his horrible dungeon, and, at the expiration of three weeks, became so seriously indisposed that it was feared he could not long survive.
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