"Jack Sheppard's fingers are lime-twigs. Certain reserves went down on both sides. "My enemy," replied her son. Ed. " "He must," exclaimed Jack, hastily; "but only let me have it till to-morrow, and if I don't entrap him in a snare from which, with all his cunning, he shall find it difficult to escape, my name's not Jack Sheppard. Henceforth, I utterly throw off the yoke you have laid upon me.
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