Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. ‘I don’t know that I dare. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. "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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