“Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. I told you no good would come of it. “Lots of ‘em!” Capes chuckled. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be.
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