\" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. “Please have a seat. But oh, how weary I am! I know. From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. I only arrived when everybody was coming away. Maggot.
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