"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. ” Lucy cried, drawing attention from the somber crowd. “You don’t propose, do you,” she said quietly, “that I should take this man for my husband?” “You can drive him away,” Annabel cried.
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