’ Gerald did not speak, but there was a look in his face that made Melusine glad she had at last had the courage to confide in him. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. I guess they were bad all the time. I will be as silent as the grave. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure.
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