She explained she was expecting an important interview, and asked that her visitor should be duly shown in. Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. She thought she had hidden well from him. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. The applause was uproarious at the end of the concert. ‘But do you not see that he will come again? I think it is better if you, both of you, go and leave me here to find—’ She broke off, looking away.
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