She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. “Surely Lady Ennison would object, even if it were possible. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. Very well. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. Yes. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. ‘I thank you.
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