Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. "Remove him to the Middle Stone Hold,—watch over him night and day, do you mind?" "I do, Sir. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that.
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