The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation. “Yes. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. It was his tall stance and his pale skin that drew him out of the crowd. I overheard Jonathan Wild's instructions to Quilt Arnold, and though he spoke in slang, and in an under tone, my quick ears, and acquaintance with the thieves' lingo, enabled me to make out every word he uttered.
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