Not much. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. . “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. Yes, I can readily believe it. “The nurse will fetch the doctor directly. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. CHAPTER X. ” “Damn!” he remarked at the defaced letter; and, taking a fresh sheet, he recopied what he had written.
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