’ ‘But you mind that I say I do not trust you. Some rustic hand had written upon the door "JACK SHEPPARD'S CAGE;" and upon the wall was affixed a large placard describing his person, and offering a reward for his capture. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. He's on the ragged edge. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. ‘I have told you I will take Jacques. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish.
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