Annabel had been here then. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. 130 “You look fantastic!” He said, sitting down next to her on the sectional sofa, his black tee shirt and blue jeans in stark contrast to her cream colored princess gown. Such pretty manners, she thought. .
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