“I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued.
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