"Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I know. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. 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. ” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. This done, he followed the course which Jack had just taken.
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