As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. ” She found her muscles a-tremble. "Jack Sheppard knows this house, I believe, Sir," observed Shotbolt.
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