So, adroitly and patiently, he pulled Ruth apart; that is, he plucked forth a little secret here, another there, until he had quite a substantial array. If you don’t like it, I won’t be mad, I promise. Too late now. On one side of the handbill a print of the reigning sovereign, Anne, had been pinned over the portrait of William the Third, whose aquiline nose, keen eyes, and luxuriant wig, were just visible above the diadem of the queen. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve found her!’ ‘Ah, Gérard,’ uttered the girl in a gratified tone as Major Alderley walked through into the light. This left Spurlock alone. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him.
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