. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. He scratched his upper lip reflectively. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. “I am sure you will marry Nigel sooner or later, and then all your work will be thrown away.
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