Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. Meantime, the lady had overtaken them; but, terrified by the menaces of her vindictive kinsmen, she did not dare to reveal herself to her husband, of whose concealment on the roof of the very house the party were searching she was aware. A few minutes later Sir John left the room. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. "I thought as much," continued Jonathan. "So we are, Ma'am, by your charms," returned Mr.
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