Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. "There's a young woman. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner. I should like Mr. I needn't tell you to tread carefully. 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. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. I can’t.
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