I'll lay my life he's gone. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. There indeed you see Monte Rosa. 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. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. After that, we'll go our several ways.
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