' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing. It amounted to two-and-twenty pounds. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 27-09-2024 08:23:21