‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. He found a coach at the door, with the blinds carefully drawn up, and ascertained from a tall, ill-looking, though tawdrily-dressed fellow, who held his horse by the bridle, and whom he addressed as Quilt Arnold, that the two boys were safe inside, in the custody of Abraham Mendez, the dwarfish Jew. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. Please to release me.
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