Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. Certainly I never met him. Austin," continued the tapstress; "he's only going on an errand. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship. The blaze, however, was sufficient to reveal to the thief-taker the features of his intended assassin. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored.
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