"Can't!" repeated his mother. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. If anyone noticed, he did not report the event.
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