‘Not if I heard him aright. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. "Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack. This time they would call it murder. I don't believe his name is Taber. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so.
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