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There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest. Having seen his mistress safe down, Jack instantly descended, leaving the best part of his clothes, as a memorial of his flight, to the jailor. Nothing was given away, and no one came so rich to the stall as to command all that it had to offer.
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