She lunged without warning again, and Gosse, just catching her blade on his own, was obliged to retreat backwards up the little stair. 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. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. A fever of shame ran through her being.
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