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" "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. Wild. “Yes,” he said, “I shall come. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. I—well, I lost my temper. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. The little old lady struck like a projectile upon the resounding chest of the foremost of these, and then Ann Veronica had got past and was ascending the steps. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. ” He cried traitorously.

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