Nothing like the direct approach, she thought. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. Not a moment is to be lost. While this was going on, Jack suddenly made a movement which attracted the turnkey's attention; and during that interval the old man slipped some articles wrapped in a handkerchief into Bess's hands, who instantly secreted them in her bosom. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily. He pushed her small hand into his jeans.
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