. "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 I don’t want to. Returning in moments, Mr. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale.
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