A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. "My name is Kneebone," added the portly personage, stepping forward. "Do not despair!" echoed Mrs. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. "You've but a sorry lodging, Mrs. “Come with me. Until the age of five she adored him.
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