Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. It came to her like a dear thing rediscovered, that she loved Capes. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. Wild in his own domain. Your uncle—our uncle is with him. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. And immediately afterwards the curtain was drawn aside, and disclosed the Satanic countenance of Jonathan Wild, who had crept into the house unperceived, "I'll tell you, why he can't go back to his master," cried the thief-taker, with a malignant grin. Anna stared back at every one with undaunted composure.
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