‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. It did not occur to her that they at least had found a way of earning a living, and had that much economic superiority to herself. Then they deliberated whether Bernard Shaw ought to go into Parliament. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges.
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