" "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. Sheppard, sinking backwards upon the pallet. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. Fixing a ferocious and exulting look upon Jack Sheppard, he exclaimed.
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