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Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. Ramage. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. 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. But there have been times, Anna, when your work has startled me. A slow anger burned in the man.
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