"I can't say I do," replied Wood. XII JACK SHEPPARD A Romance BY W. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination.
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