" "So I perceive," replied Wood. Gosse had hidden himself successfully then. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. " "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously.
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