She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern. When the lad is fit to be moved, we’ll bring him home. Her aunt glanced up startled, and then sat very still, with hands that had ceased to work. She did this to please him. Instinctively she imitated this action, chilled and a little frightened at the expression of terror that confronted her. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. She could not help herself. Master and missis have been talking all day long about Jack Sheppard, and I'm dying to read his life.
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