At the expiration of an hour, by dint of unremitting exertion, he had made so large a breach in the chimney, that he could stand upright in it. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one.
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