My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her, preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her. As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over, and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard, his firmness completely deserted him, and he sank beneath the weight of his affliction. “All my dreadful scientific things,” said Ann Veronica. Before Jonathan followed he turned to face his assailants. There was something in Jonathan's manner, as he issued this command, that struck the man as singular, and he afterwards recalled it. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes.
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