At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. “I do hope you will see how things are, and not be offended with me or frightfully shocked and distressed by what I have done. ” He smiled and buzzed her in to the glass doors, which opened by an unseen electronic hand. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Were it not for your voice, I don't think I should know you. ” Tears flowed down her face. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious. CHAPTER XXVII.
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