END OF THE FIRST EPOCH. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip. Anna admitted the fact. Sheppard, returning his embrace with all a parent's tenderness. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day.
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