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Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. ” She replied. —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard.
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