’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. Scarcely any one noticed the full measure of her consternation. “I can’t conceive what you want. "Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce.
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