‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Each morning his inquiry was properly answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like.
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