"Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. Too busy. My sister made me over, you know. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. " Roused by this reflection, filled with the deepest anxiety for his mother, and burning to be avenged upon Jonathan Wild, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. They did not have to wait long.
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