Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ‘How much does he know?’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned narrowed eyes on Gerald. He was consumed with desire. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones.
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