“Yes. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. For if Gerald had indeed gone to see this Prudence, it was better to wait for his report. Otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. "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 tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it.
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