Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. "Where is he?" asked Jonathan. ” “Annabel is a prophetess,” he declared. For a few minutes all was silent. ’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss. Nothing to check their proceedings but a declining habit of telling the truth and the limitations of their imaginations. " "Well, well, I'm not within a minute," rejoined the turnkey. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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