"I can readily see," he said, "why you'll always be as poor as a church mouse. ” He stood up rather close to her and looked into her eyes. They could no longer stay in one place. Wood turned to look at him. "Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called. But I know very well that that word will never be spoken. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. Though a thief, Jack Sheppard is a man of his word. He only stays here for you, hoping in vain.
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