Sheppard, who had been stricken down by the blow that prostrated her assailant, looked up, she perceived Jonathan Wild kneeling beside the body of Blueskin. ” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. " "Very well, Sir," replied Sheppard. Good riddance to bad rubbish. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. She was strong, not unlike a pack mule or a camel; she thought to herself and smirked. " "Better eat these, even if you don't want them," she urged. " And he raised his arm with the intention of executing his purpose, when a ball from Jack's pistol passed through the back of his hand, shattering the limb. "We shall all be murdered.
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