"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. If you ask me, you’ll have to beat her regularly if you don’t want to live a dog’s life. Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society. You must keep out of the way till it's blown over. ’ ‘What about this Leonardo fellow?’ Hilary asked, still frowning heavily. Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side of one of the screened windows. .
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