“Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. It seemed to her at this moment that there was nothing left for her to do. Disengaging his right arm, Jonathan struck his victim a tremendous blow on the head with the bludgeon, that fractured his skull; and, exerting all his strength, threw him over the rails, to which he clung with the tenacity of despair. But since you assure me you didn't write the letters, and Mr.
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