“You see you do not know how much of truth there is in his story. ‘Ah, grandpére. 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. I hope we may never find her again. Anna hailed a bus. “I cannot keep silence any longer. I admit it. “Let me add too that I am thankful for your decision.
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