"If you thought that, why did you give me this job?"—his voice faint and thick. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. It shall be the bludgeon.
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