He unhooked it from the front clasp. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. My janizaries shall go with me. He was twenty-nine at the time, practically an old man. In consequence of the encouragement thus offered to dishonesty, and the security afforded to crime, this quarter of the Borough of Southwark was accounted (at the period of our narrative) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villainy of the metropolis. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone.
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