Give me the chisel, Blueskin. "Jack," continued Thames, addressing Sheppard, who had only just recovered from the blow, and regained his feet, "I don't ask how you came here, nor do I blame your rashness in doing so. According to what I’ve heard, you oughtn’t to be here. You have made your public, you are already a personage. Gerald perhaps would know how to find him. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. The light!—the light!" Astounded at his cries, Thames sprang towards him. I looked upon you from the first as the most promising of my pupils.
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