” Sir John, frankly oblivious of the possibility of passers-by, took her into his arms and kissed her. " "The Tigress!" The doctor laughed. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey.
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