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Gerald sighed. Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. There was something fatalistic about the letter H. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed. ’ ‘What?’ Appalled, Gerald could only gaze at her. Jack's friends were allowed to visit him,; but as he had openly avowed his intention of attempting an escape, their proceedings were narrowly watched. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. ’ Before she could object, Melusine found herself hustled back into the house and dragged willy-nilly towards the library door, where Jack called softly.
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