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Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. " "You won't complain of the delay when I tell you what I've done," answered Jack. She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat.
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