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. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. ‘But that is excessively unkind of you, Melusine. . O'Higgins. . It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. She got to the driveway and was semi-surprised to see that his car was gone. ” 74 She hung up the phone. ’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill.
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