He hadn't played fair. Kneebone begged him to take the prisoner into the churchyard. "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. " "Thank'ee, Sir," grinned Sheppard. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. I am bothered. “I can say no more.
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