Section 2. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. Happy Thanksgiving. In futur', I'll keep the 'Evenin' Star' for his lordship's enemies. ‘Parbleu, you are deaf perhaps? It is seen that you are very old, certainly.
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