He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. Without Jack, it was certain that she faced danger if she went outside Golden Square. Never before had any human being kissed her lips. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. ‘Am I right in supposing you to have been a sister to the late Mr Jarvis Remenham?’ ‘Quite right.
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