” For a time she sat on a rail before leaving the road for the downland turf. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. " Ten minutes' walk brought them to the hotel. She stepped into his arms. Saw the villain through the keyhole. He had kissed his wife on the mouth … and had been horrified! There was real madness somewhere along this road. On that morning the death warrant had arrived from Windsor, ordering Sheppard for execution, (since his capture by Jonathan Wild in Bedlam, as related in a former chapter, Jack had been tried, convicted, and sentenced to death,) together with three other malefactors on the following Friday. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man.
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