” She said under her breath. " "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action.
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