The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. Wood at Dollis Hill, was assaulted and half-killed by a party of ruffians, headed, he swore, by Mr. ‘You have not the right. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. As Jack was removed, he noticed Jonathan Wild at a little distance from him, eyeing him with a look of the most savage satisfaction.
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