If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. Life is two things, that’s how I see it; two things mixed and muddled up together. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t.
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