‘Lord in heaven, did I do that?’ exclaimed Gerald remorsefully. 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. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. May I know your name?’ The lady eyed him.
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