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"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 thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. It was only a few months ago that I told you you must come to London, and you only laughed at me. ‘You are extremely empty-headed, Lucy. She climbed back into the window an hour before sunrise. She was fine and tender.
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