Austin, may repeat it if he pleases to his master, Jonathan Wild,—I have not. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall rounded upon them all at the club. His mother used to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted,—and now she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd. "I was afraid it would be so. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. " "I could make a fine sketch of him now," whispered Hogarth to Gay.
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