"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. " "Horrible!" cried Mrs. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them.
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