I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. 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. Very soon she would be able to forget it. ” “Well, I take it we’re straight again,” said Capes with a note of relief, and assumed an easier position on the edge of her table. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A.
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