“John?” He turned around in the recliner. In vain did the woollendraper offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. But in the early days of her abduction, she did not allow him to touch her. .
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