Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. God, Lucy, that’s the stuff people wear to Phys. Take care he don't see you,—and bring me word where he goes, and what he does. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused. You shall behold him. . "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. The doctor missed the expression of terror and dismay that flitted across Spurlock's face.
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