The fair boy in the audience who had waved was yet another suitor. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. "Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. There was a gentle rustling of skirts.
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