If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. ” “But how did you tell him? You’ve never told me. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. I thought one had only to take it by the throat. I cannot let you go. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man.
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