He leaned forward to better drink her in. Give him this letter, child, and bid him take it to the Lodge at Newgate without loss of time. My foster mom works there as a second job. A radiant smile astonished him. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. I thought that you loved Paris and your work so much. And your great-niece. CHAPTER XIV.
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