The doctor nodded. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Then he paused. Everyone has gone away again, so that I can do so all alone. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them.
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