. The solemn strokes were immediately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. He frowned. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. There had been fusses and scenes dimly apprehended through half-open doors. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence.
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