When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. "I declare I'm all in a cold sweat. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ‘And certainly I wish that Joan will come with us. You are somebody’s secretary, are you not?” It was plain that the subject was distasteful to her, but Ennison, although famous in a small way for his social tact, did not at once discard it.
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