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. ” “Why not?” she asked quietly. ’ Disappointment flooded her. ‘My dear boy, your loyalty is misplaced. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present. Amidst it all, however, there were several light-hearted and laughing groups walking from cell to cell to whom all this misery appeared matter of amusement. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. “Rummy lot we are!” said Roddy. "No," replied Jonathan, with a brutal laugh.
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