“Yes. Ann Veronica found herself in the presence of the most disconcerting fact in human experience, the kindliness of people you believe to be thoroughly wrong. The beachcomber, the lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this estate. 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. “Yes, John. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy.
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