He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ‘It is of no use to try to stop me. I sha'n't cry any more. Perhaps she would have to charge this man and appear in a police-court next day. It was the gratification of an immense necessity.
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