I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. "Not exactly," answered Jonathan, drily.
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