In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. . There are boats on the lake and shady depths and wildernesses of pine-wood. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. “I mean it. Earles answered, glibly. "Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack.
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