Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. “Sure, I guess so. ‘You put that thing away now, missie. . It fell with a clatter to the floor. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. It was Annabel who caught at the paper.
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