Between the two officers, with their arms linked in his, Jack Sheppard was conducted to the cart. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “Something. Sheppard's grave,—the mother of the famous housebreaker," said Morgan, in answer to Jack's inquiry;—"and it's well they let her have Christian burial after all—for they say she destroyed herself for her son. "I want you for the job I spoke of a short time ago, Nab," he said. But, alas! Ah Cum shrugged philosophically. I just don’t know where to start. It is different.
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