I'll tell you what. 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. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. You two have a good time. "True," replied Wild. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe.
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