As the wedding neared, she bought some finer things: a veal roast for supper, a single pearl for the dowry. For most of a long and fluctuating night she was fairly confident that she would find work; she knew herself to be strong, intelligent, and capable by the standards of most of the girls she knew. She hesitated. “What about blood banks? Have you ever tried them?” “I don’t just take blood, John. The affair passed at one leap from a spree to a nightmare of violence and disgust. 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. Wood's boat bearing up towards him.
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