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. I want you to be clear what you’re really and truly up to, anyhow. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper. He had no wish to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk.
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