. She would write to Gerald. I naturally want to do it up in proper style. She took a deep breath. So these two young philosophers got along very well that day; and the succeeding days. Murder had become nothing to her. Oh, don't worry. 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 learned quickly, absorbing all she could as quickly as possible as her adoration grew for him. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship.
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