I always told you some accident would happen. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. ” “Don’t be foolish,” he said sharply. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. “No. "It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate.
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