" "Pray, let me have a pinch!" said Edgeworth Bess, with a captivating glance. “I’m thirsty. ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. We’ll have some buttered toast. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. ’ ‘I don’t, as a matter of fact,’ Gerald said decidedly, a frown creasing his brow. Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them. ’ ‘And she’d be right,’ Martha said severely.
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