’ ‘I chose to come with you, miss,’ Jack interrupted more firmly. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. “How are those books any different from the witchcraft books?” “I dunno. ” She realized it was possible to be sorry for him—acutely sorry for the situation.
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