In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. The night his execution was therefore passed in a most anxious state of mind; nor was his uneasiness allayed by the appearance of Jonathan Wild, who, after he had been driven from the roof of the jail, repaired to the Middle Stone Ward in a fit of ungovernable passion, to vent his rage upon the prisoner, whom he looked upon as the cause of the present calamity. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. Morningside Park was a suburb that had not altogether, as people say, come off. Very well, I give up. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter.
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