“We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. You know—I worship you. I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's, after my escape from the New Prison. He's passed through some rough mental torture. You'll find me at supper. Humph. ’ ‘What son?’ asked Roding. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. Would there be enough in the young man's envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel bill—and in the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? So all things pointed to the happy circumstance of setting this young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his journey.
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