" "Indeed!—who is it?" "Jack Sheppard. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. It did not seem quite fair. I did not know what God had in mind then. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals.
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