I feel a mixture of beast and uncle. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. 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. I’ll try to stay as long as I can. She indicated the captain who had retired behind the sofa.
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