"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've a couple of kinchens in yonder rattler, whom I wish to place under old Sharples's care. She sat with him in the courtyard after serving him 20 spiced wine. Norris, wringing her hands and wepping, the unfortunate lady was placed upon a couch. Even though the individual faces of her audience were not to be singled out, she had been conscious from the first moment of her appearance that something was wrong. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. ” Two young men on their way down the room came suddenly to a standstill before Anna.
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