In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. He stopped before her suddenly. "No; I don't think I'd laugh. And, incidentally, check on that unfortunate young fellow Kimble. Seeing provisions in the window, Jack ventured in and bought a loaf. You cannot draw. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels.
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