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. They were terrible, horrible people. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. Sebastian had come to visit his old friend and former wife. I'll think no more about her.
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