He spent the evening telling her stories of Greece as she sat in front of a roaring fire. 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. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. ’ ‘Your groom? What for?’ ‘Get him to wait outside.
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