Herein was the sum of human knowledge in essence. I didn't understand then, but I do now. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. “That was a moment of madness,” she said. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. "He acts queerly, too. Indeed, it seemed inevitable that she must clear it up with his assistance, or not at all. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony.
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