"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. We had better have it over. "I'm prudence personified. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. By this time, several of the terrified domestics appeared with lights. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. .
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