Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty. "Caught!" shouted the head-turnkey. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark.
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