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She loved to be told to do things. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. Sheppard's weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended. ‘Don’t be silly. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman. Ah!" she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, "there is Jonathan Wild!" "Betrayed!" exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day.
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