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. He was aware of trying to scream because he was paralyzed and his legs would not move. “These are her rooms,” she said. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire.
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