“Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply. She sighed with relief. Stanley,’ I said. “No I’m not, John. Where is he?" "Within this room," replied the knight. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Here, then, but for the time and place, might be another Sidney Carton. "Come to buy off Jack Sheppard, I suppose," replied the fellow.
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