Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. Wild had a narrow escape lately, in that affair of Captain Darrell," observed Shotbolt. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. “Of course, I remember now.
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