“Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do. Still—you must learn for yourself. " So saying, she retired, and Jack entered the cell. Prom a knot of idlers at a public-house, he learnt that Jonathan Wild had just ridden past, and that his setters were scouring the country in every direction. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself. I hate what I am. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. Having made a tolerably good meal upon the loaf, overcome by fatigue, Jack turned into a barn in Stoke Newington, and slept till late in the day, when he awakened much refreshed.
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