She opened her eyes. ” He threw the stone protecting the crypt to one side. 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. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. Wild is incapable of such baseness.
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