The Supper at Mr. ” Sir John turned towards the door. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. “You do not know what such a relation means. I sha'n't utter a word. Sheppard had been interred. Hurry to me, I entreat you. Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard.
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