“You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. ” He recognized the force, almost the passion, which trembled in her tone, and he at once abandoned the subject. I love everything to-day, and all of you, but I love this, this—this innocence upon us most of all. Always as black and bitter as gall. . 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.
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