" And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it. Ann Veronica passed from her aunt to her father, and put her arms about him and kissed his cheek. But you want one quality, without which all others are valueless. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. "Your voice seems familiar to me—and—but I'm getting a little deaf—and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used to do, especially by this light.
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