"Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and, though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning moon prevented it from being totally dark. Bon. He hated himself a little for it. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. ’ And with that he went off to the City, stern and silent, leaving his bacon on his plate—a great slice of bacon hardly touched. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime.
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