“I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. " "But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. ” “I was late. " "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood.
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