She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. "Though you lorded it over that fond fool, Mrs. Tears sprang to her eyes. She thought about just asking him to take 116 her to his place and get it over with, but she reconsidered and decided to attempt to get to know him better. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. E. I'll try a strong dose. "But, take my advice, and keep out of Sir Rowland's way, or you'll get the poor lady into trouble as well as me. Which were perfectly true, as Gerald was aware. " "All right.
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