Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. The moment I entered the room, and found you a prisoner in the hands of Jonathan Wild, I guessed how matters stood, and acted accordingly. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. ‘As to Gérard, I do not know why he does this.
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