"This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. Leave the room! leave the house, Sir! and enter it again at your peril. She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. But we must not anticipate the course of events. “I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory.
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