It wasn’t. “I suppose, Mr. “Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. It's exactly like a miniature I have in my pocket. The doctor laughed. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter.
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