Kneebone, respecting the lawless career of Jack Sheppard, and struck with the probable fate that awaited him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene, fell into a gloomy reverie. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. ‘Yes, only that this consolation he had found before he married my mother. He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be.
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