. Quilt's manner, indeed, was that of a man endeavouring to muster up sufficient resolution for the commission of some desperate crime. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. I pity her from the bottom of my heart. "Joan! Joan!" vociferated he, "open the door, for God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say. The rainstorm, short-lived, began to subside.
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