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” He ruminated for a minute. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. ” Capes watched the limpid water dripping from his oar. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild. Purney, the present ordinary of Newgate.
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