“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. Sepulchre's church, and hurrying down Snow Hill, darted into the first turning on the left. Presently.
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