" Spurlock wondered if something hadn't suddenly gone awry in his head. They crossed the Channel in sunshine and a breeze that just ruffled the sea to glittering scales of silver. She smiled. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. You knew me in Paris.
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