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. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye. He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air.
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