She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. We'll lather him with mud, shave him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua pompaginis. Wood rest till he brought the villains to justice. 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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