"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Quilt, meanwhile, came down, examined the door, and finding it unfastened, locked it with a bitter imprecation on his brother-janizary's carelessness. She was a swan among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. "My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears.
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