Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. ‘Tell me, my boy. It's so stuffy—and all that tobacco smoke!" He inspected his watch. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. "Yes, sir," said McClintock, as he sat down; "that's South Sea stuff, that yarn of yours.
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