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What would you? I cannot fight them all. ‘Still more would I be so if he had come himself to tell me this. But what I want to get at is this. . ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. 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. Wood's.

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