On that night, I surrendered myself to Jonathan Wild, and became— what I am. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. The man was thick set, with a bright roving eye. Only your pa knew as how I were the one as saw to you at the wet-nurse’s cottage, and he got a-hold of me and made me bring him to you. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year.
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