It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. At length Jack Sheppard observed:—"The coast's clear. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me. Here you are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, provided you keep liquor out of it.
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