But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. She resolved to go into the City to Ramage and ask for his advice. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. I don’t feel it. "Rowland," she rejoined, "you strive in vain to terrify me into compliance with your wishes. I require nothing, you see, till my share of the contract is fulfilled. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success. So it is that I do not do these things. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket. “Just think about what you are asking, John, please.
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