For a few minutes all was silent. In fact, it had been anciently the right hand postern under the gate leading towards the city. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. " "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. "Not a moment is to be lost," cried Jack: "follow me. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. I am bothered. “Forgive me,” he said, “but I want to hear it from your sister.
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