‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly. " The chair was then opened. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. ’ ‘But where? Where has he gone? Always he goes off, and he says no word to anyone. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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