His face turned a dark crimson. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. "If you won't disclose your name, I will for you! You are Jonathan Wild!" "Further concealment is needless," answered the other, pulling off his wig and black patch, and resuming his natural tone of voice; "I am Jonathan Wild!" "Say you so!" rejoined Kneebone; "then be this your passport to eternity. Let us proceed with our tale. Too many.
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