Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached. "You've won your wager. Then she went back and mixed up the sheets in a search for particular passages. My will is executed, and placed in safe custody. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. She has contrived to keep out of my sight up to this time, and I've no doubt she'll keep out of it altogether for the future. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs.
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