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Sheppard snatched back her hand from his grasp, and exerted all her force to repel his advances. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. "If Jack Sheppard sups with Mr. A door slammed. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. "The deuce he has! Why, it's only a few hours since I beheld him chained down with half a hundred weight of iron, in the strongest ward at Newgate.
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