A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. She pulled his shirt from its tucked belted state and snaked her hands around his waist. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. "I know you'll not deceive me. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. " With this, he was preparing to follow his friend, when their egress was prevented by the sudden appearance of Jonathan Wild and Blueskin.
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