CHAPTER XII. "Jack Sheppard's fingers are lime-twigs. He moaned. . "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. . Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. “She has one, that’s why.
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