She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt. 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. "We may trust him," he added in a whisper; "he is a staunch friend of the good cause.
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