His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. When about to retire to rest, the rencounter with Jack Sheppard again recurred to him, and he half blamed himself for not acquainting Mr. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way.
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