‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. Then a roar of hisses. Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended. 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. "By George!" he exclaimed. It was a huge stone placed there by some workmen occupied in repairing the structure.
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