Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. I was sitting up, lamenting your departure, dear Thames, when, hearing an odd noise, I went to the landing, and, by the light of a dark lantern, saw Jack Sheppard, stealing up stairs, followed by two men with crape on their faces. He might solve the riddle. Quite right. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. ‘I am not a murderer.
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