“Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time. On that night, I surrendered myself to Jonathan Wild, and became— what I am. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. She twisted her fingers tightly. Marina gently passed the swaddled infant to his mother, who sat down on the bed proudly to nurse the baby, extracting a fat breast from her heavy gown. We needn’t try and give ourselves airs.
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