“Ass!” he went on, still warming. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. Wudd I'm here, and have brought him a message from his unlawful son, and don't be detainin' me, my darlin', for there's not a minute to lose if the poor lad's to be recused from the clutches of that thief and thief-taker o' the wurld, Jonathan Wild. Indeed, I've heard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter her under his own roof. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant companions. I am really in earnest. Yes—as he would have liked. What they do with him afterward is off my ticket, no concern of James Boyle; they can lock him up or let him go. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse.
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