Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. ‘Something wrong, madame?’ Her fan came up swiftly, hiding the lower part of her face. "But if my career were truly exhibited, it must be as one long struggle against destiny in the shape of—" "Jonathan Wild," interposed Gay. "I shouldn't wonder," replied Mrs. She thought her niece very hard and very self-possessed and self-confident.
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