The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. The thing is done. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. But the great point was still unaccomplished. “It jars. ToC Thames Darrell's fears were not, however, groundless.
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