’ ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Back to Blaye, my girl. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. Alice was going to be Mrs. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about.
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