As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can. " "No," thundered Wild. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. You have to come over to my house. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. Ruth loved him. They must be for your father. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure.
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