She went to her own table and sat down. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild. “I just came to you and put myself in your hands. She laughed. If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach. Even the children jeer. He was mad. Humph. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. Through no fault of her own. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. He lost control of the machine. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily.
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