Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. ” “Why do you think so?” she asked. . "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. ” “Nobody does that,” said Ramage, and kept silence for a moment.
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