This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. All the influences about her worked with her own predisposition and against all the traditions of her home and upbringing to deal with the facts of life in an unabashed manner. He saw the girl, and sprang up in bed. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. He began really to like Spurlock, despite the shadow of the boy's past, despite his inexplicable attitude toward this glorious girl.
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