Wait, though. She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. ’ ‘Even that he is, one must be practical. " Jack, meanwhile, was carried to Newgate. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. In this way (he informed Spurlock) he kept posted on what was going on in the strictly commercial world. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. A tarnish of constraint that had recently spread over her intercourse with Capes vanished again.
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