Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. 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. \"Sorry. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. Surely he was imagining this picture. 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.
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