‘You’re either mad, or in love. That—that isn’t living! You are beside yourself. ’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. My friend the doctor suspected it, and so do I. ‘They lived with him, one after the other, for all the world as his wife. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. He might spend the rest of his days at McClintock's in perfect security. —Jonathan Wild: August 31st, 1724. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. E. As for the patient, his decision was immediate.
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