A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. His light brown hair was almost crew cut short. The summons was instantly answered by a shop-boy. All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression. Mr. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. 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.
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