"Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. "You mustn't talk any more; the excitement isn't good for you. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. ’ ‘Not dead, miss. It generalized everything she put to it. Did you grow up at the Valade estates? You were born a Valade, I take it, even though your father is English. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account.
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