“It couldn’t be. I meant to lie to you. This is a joke of yours. Wood, reproachfully, as they returned to the parlour. Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. " "Blueskin, clear the room," cried the Master; "these gentlemen would be private. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Understand once and for all that that answer is final. Arrived at the extremity of the building, he found that it overlooked the flat-roof of a house which, as far as he could judge in the darkness, lay at a depth of about twenty feet below.
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