She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. Sheppard!" echoed Jack, surprised out of his caution. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. " "Is she alive?" repeated the widow.
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