Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. ‘Never. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. Oaths exploded like shells from a battery in full fire, accompanied by threats of direst vengeance against the individuals who had maltreated them. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. Little did he know that she had begged her parents as a youngster to get her a language tutor.
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