Sheppard: "nothing can save me. 7. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. ” Her eyes glinted, macabre. “I saw his face in a mirror. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. When she awoke, she felt sick, her mouth still salty with blood. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day.
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