“P. There was more shouting. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. 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. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. “I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. ‘Eh bien?’ She thrust again, from the same place. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist.
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