All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. He was like a man beside himself. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. Jonathan Wild and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited by the reward, will be upon my track.
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