The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. 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. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky.
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