" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. "No matter. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. In her case the barrier was not selfishness but the perception that her interest would be misinterpreted, naturally. And yet the moment I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all on my reputation. Light flooded the uncarpeted chamber, revealing the decayed state of the place. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. “I do not even know who you are. . This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. You've betrayed yourself, Thames. As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room. Here are their letters.
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