” “Thank you. " She departed reluctantly. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. "Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack.
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