"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. "This she-devil has got hold of the sack. A discreet husband would leave the dispensation of his bounty, where women are concerned, to his wife. Jack Sheppard is now wholly in my hands.
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