It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. Ever since he's become so famous, the folks about here ha' christened it Jack Sheppard's cage. I have been insulted, and cursed at, and threatened with both pistol and dagger. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. I have been sitting with him ever since. "In the devil's name, is that you, Jack!" ejaculated Kneebone. ‘But a spy I am not. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation.
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This video was uploaded to lewoagencies.com on 24-06-2024 08:07:10
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