"Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. Afterward goes on to Oxford. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes. ” For some seconds he had remained quite still. But I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred miles distant from you at this moment—ha! ha!" As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish features, and a long red beard. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous.
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