" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. White calls them. The moment I entered the room, and found you a prisoner in the hands of Jonathan Wild, I guessed how matters stood, and acted accordingly. "My demeanour ought to convince you that I came with no hostile intention. Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. . For a long time he remained standing before the fire, staring at the situation. The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle.
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