“I was surprised, I admit,” he said. ” She nodded in the affirmative. Jonathan nodded assent. 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 young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. I never could. The stoppage had materially lessened the distance between him and his pursuers, who now amounted to more than a hundred persons, many of whom carried lanterns and links. In any place her beauty would have been an uncommon thing. She said there was no other way to get them to stop their constant screaming. It’s best.
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