167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. ” “Yes. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ” “I may come a little way, then?” he begged. ‘Now then, girl. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. ” Anna glanced towards her sister, but the latter avoided her eyes.
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