She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. It has instead found you. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. I have been stupid and foolish. She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly.
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