CHAPTER II. " "My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large. ” “WHAT?” said Ann Veronica, startled. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. "Be silent," said Jonathan, striding deliberately into the room; "these cries will avail you nothing. \" \"I'm sorry I didn't call. You understand that term?” Ann Veronica smiled faintly. ToC Jonathan Wild, meanwhile, had quitted the house. The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he conceives it to be characteristic of his countrymen. "It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile. 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. "You," answered Jack, abruptly. .
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