“No, you weren’t bad in the slightest. When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. Sheppard, returning his embrace with all a parent's tenderness. He was there concealed, waiting her return. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. 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.
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