"Well," she said, as they reached the hotel portal, "what is your advice?" "Would you follow it?" "Probably not. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. “You are absurd,” she declared. A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday.
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