CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. Dump popped his head into the cage. After all, this could never be the black sheep. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. If I'd been in the way, instead of Jonathan Wild, that accident wouldn't have happened. \"Hey, I'm Michelle. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water.
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