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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. The contest, however, though desperate, was brief. ‘What do you mean to do with her?’ ‘Just keep her talking, that’s all,’ Gerald said quickly. Fretting and fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence.
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