Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. From the sounds of it, he was better off dead. ” For some seconds he had remained quite still. But if Misther Wild were to find out that I thwarted his schames——" "I'd not be in your skin for a trifle," interrupted Quilt, who having secured Sheppard, and delivered him to Abraham, now approached them unawares; "and it shan't be my fault if he don't hear of it. Perhaps I deceived you about it. Figg," replied Jack, smiling; "for, before I'm taken to Tyburn, I mean to borrow a shirt for the occasion from you.
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