"Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. "It's Jonathan Wild come back with a troop of constables at his heels, to search the house," rejoined Mrs.
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