" Jack Sheppard again sought his pistol, and was only withheld from levelling it at the thief-taker's head, by the hope that he might gather some further information respecting his mother. It was locked. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know. " He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge.
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