"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ‘I don’t want that girl running her head into any more danger. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. ‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘allow me a very tiny intimacy. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. I figured it would hurt your feelings if you knew I still talked to him, so I kept my mouth shut.
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