"The devil!" ejaculated Jonathan. "Answer me one question first?" he said; "I half suspect you're Jack Sheppard. The devil is on top, not below. "I ought to tell you that Mr. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. Sheppard, if you please, Ma'am," interrupted the lad; "I allow nobody to call me Jack.
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