Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. "Heaven grant I may not be too late!" Followed by Jack Sheppard, who kept sufficiently near him to watch his proceedings, and yet not expose himself, Quilt unlocked one or two doors which he left open, and after winding his way along a gloomy passage, arrived at the door of a vault. “Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me.
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