Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. Lucy could feel blood welling underneath a bump half swelling and already half-healing on her scalp. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. "The other kid's given my partner the slip. ‘Jacques?’ she called.
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