How Jack Sheppard got rid of his Irons. You have been burning paper, I see. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. "I have killed her," exclaimed Jack, dropping the bar,—"by your advice, Thames. " "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it.
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