Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. The blood will rest on your head. " "A friend is not so soon gained as lost," replied Wood; "but how has the prediction been fulfilled, Joan, eh?" "I thought you would have guessed, Sir," replied the widow, timidly. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. I have slept with it under my pillow.
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