" "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily. "You lie, hussy!" replied Jonathan, rudely pushing her aside, as she vainly endeavoured to oppose his entrance into the room; "she is here. "Your audacity passes belief," cried the latter, as soon as his surprise would allow him utterance. " "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously. " Roused by this reflection, filled with the deepest anxiety for his mother, and burning to be avenged upon Jonathan Wild, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes. She was very pretty. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit.
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