” “I am coming with you,” he said firmly. ” “To a friend?” “To lodgings—alone. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. Then a ride to London on horseback. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. ” He shook her hands off almost roughly.
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