‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. “It was a phase,” she said. Springing upon the box, he told the coachman to make the best of his way to Saint Giles's. Had he not said so? Not that she wished him to marry her. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. ‘He destroyed the papers?’ ‘That’s right,’ Roding said, throwing her a glance of frowning surprise, as if he had not rated her intelligence so high. That’s— that’s my private life.
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