"Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. He beamed as she whispered to 22 him that she had seen a table so fine or tasted such wonders. They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen.
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