Jack Sheppard is now wholly in my hands. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. In this way (he informed Spurlock) he kept posted on what was going on in the strictly commercial world. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. He then made a sort of running noose, passed it over her body, and taking firmly hold of the bars, prepared to guide her descent. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. I believe he’s divorced. Opposite the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators.
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