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. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. ’ Her face fell. There’s no family uniting instinct, anyhow; it’s habit and sentiment and material convenience hold families together after adolescence. The events that had initially followed in the wake of her triumph over Emile Gosse had quite confused and dazed her. ” She laughed at him easily and mirthfully.
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