ToC Scarcely an hour after the horrible occurrence just related, as Jonathan Wild was seated in the audience-chamber of his residence at the Old Bailey, occupied, like Peachum, (for whose portrait he sat,) with his account-books and registers, he was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Quilt Arnold, who announced Jack Sheppard and Blueskin. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously. I can be that man, the one I know you want. "Rot, weren't they?" "No. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned. But it was very hard to follow. When they came to the round-house, Terry's courage failed him. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year.
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