Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. . The next morning she went out with her post-office savings bank-book, and telegraphed for a warrant to draw out all the money she had in the world. ‘But you will not be in a convent. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No.
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