"I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. "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 should say that having a doubt was enough to condemn it. It’s artificially chance. Very dark, like yours, ma’am.
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