‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Master and missis have been talking all day long about Jack Sheppard, and I'm dying to read his life. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. I could not dream of loving you.
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