" Sheppard's name operated like magic on the crowd. ” She commented, only to herself. She searched for it for many days that stretched into weeks before she gave up. . In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. Heard of your last escape. And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me.
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