She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. "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. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table.
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