There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. He was not able to recognize, as the doctor did, that she was only a natural woman. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. ’ Roding started. Deserted by his older companion in iniquity, and instigator to crime, he did not know what might become of him; nor, as we have observed, was the sad spectacle he had just witnessed, without effect. She looked at him mournfully.
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