"By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. The general propositions of Socialism, for example, struck her as admirable, but she certainly did not extend her admiration to any of its exponents. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured.
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