ToC After a few minutes' rapid walking, during which neither party uttered a word, Jonathan Wild and his companion had passed Saint Paul's, dived down a thoroughfare on the right, and reached Thames Street. Winifred, accordingly, left the room, and a servant being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid. It was not for a week or a month. A small brickbat was thrown, which struck Jonathan in the face. ‘Left to yourself, my girl, you may not have any affairs. Besides, she will do no such thing. The Widgett method of thought puzzled her weakly rhetorical mind.
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