This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. "But I tell you frankly, and Mr. "Yes, your son, Madam. " Roused by this reflection, filled with the deepest anxiety for his mother, and burning to be avenged upon Jonathan Wild, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room.
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