"Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. 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. Bounding the corner of a garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprisonment. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. ’ ‘Yes, but they did do so.
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