This occasioned a little delay; but Jack, whose skill as a workman in the particular line he had chosen was unequalled, and who laughed at difficulties, speedily cut out a panel by means of a centre-bit and knife, took the key from the other side, and unlocked the door. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. 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. “I think,” he said, “I was a little too mystical about beauty the other day. Boys keep you busy, don’t they?” Lucy said in a light tone. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. The city presented a terrible picture of devastation. ‘What are you after this time, miss?’ asked Jack.
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