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. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. Earles thinks I am a little mad, and between ourselves I am not sure about it myself. Jack did not advance to meet her. But we get over it. I mean Miss Charvill no harm. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. It was a mass of knick-knacks. Remember, some day you and I are going to have that book.
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