Ann Veronica decided that “hoydenish ragger” was the only phrase to express her. ’ ‘Get going, then,’ Trodger told his men. ’ ‘Not until you release that dagger. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused.
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