I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. 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. "Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. ” She said dryly.
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