“You—appear to know my name, sir,” Sir John said. On an empty cask, which served him for a chair, and opposite Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity afforded him the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin, encouraging the two women in their odious task, and plying his victim with the glass as often as he deemed it expedient to do so. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. ‘To go to these Charvill, it was not in my plot. It was that somebody had cheated you. She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool.
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