“Who can tell?” she said. “You see, dear, one IS passionately anxious for something—what is it? One wants to be CLEAN. But send me word. "Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. "Well, well; look who's here!" cried Spurlock. " "You may spare me your compassion, friend," observed Thames; "I am falsely detained.
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