Jack Sheppard's Escape from the New Prison 258 V. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. A maidservant held the front door open. Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor.
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