"Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Most of it had been incomprehensible to her, or comprehensible in a way that checked further curiosity, but the figure of Vivien, hard, capable, successful, and bullying, and ordering about a veritable Teddy in the person of Frank Gardner, appealed to her. Are we to see him here?" "Yes, my love. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. He brought home her first “meal”, a man who he 77 claimed was a highwayman who had raped several women and was destined for the hangman’s noose. “I can’t believe it. He looked fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his companions; but, though both of them were excessively frightened, neither appeared guilty.
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