Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. “Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather. She passed inside and upstairs without a word.
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