CHAPTER XXI. ” He shook her diminutive hand. He was evidently nervous, and very anxious to be impressive; his projecting eyes sought to dominate. Then he did give way a bit. I wanted to speak to you first. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise.
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