Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. I did not know how he would act if I obstructed him. Amongst others who came to see him, was a Mr. "It is Sheppard—Jack Sheppard—stop him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his heels. The policemen were closing in from the sides to intervene. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing.
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