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In spite of his shrieks, the miserable Jew was then dragged into the wellhole, and the rope being tied round his neck, he was launched from the bridge. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. They had both been unsuccessful. “But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. “Take me back. He embraced her fully. I mean—I mean to do what I can. He lost control of the machine. Jack was in excellent spirits; and by his wit, drollery and agreeable demeanour, speedily became a great favourite with the turnkey, who allowed him every indulgence consistent with his situation.
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