She formed a habit which embarrassed Spurlock greatly, but at first he dared not complain. But, let's see the prisoner. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ’ ‘Oh, don’t you?’ Gerald said grimly. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. He certainly bore inspection.
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