" "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. "No, I tell you," rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his way out of the crowd. Gwen and Alice were fantastically friendly, which seemed to annoy him, and Mrs. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. Any one very badly moved choked down a few mouthfuls; the symptom of supreme distress was not to be able to touch a bit. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. " "I had to. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. The doctor frowned. "There's a guinea to drink our health," she added, slipping a piece of money into his hand. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father.
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