Stanley as they drew alongside, to account for his own ruffled and heated expression. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. She had told him, point blank, that since the Church had neither annulled the first marriage nor sanctified the second one, she was not his wife. . The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. ‘That’s why I’m asking.
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