" Jack Sheppard again sought his pistol, and was only withheld from levelling it at the thief-taker's head, by the hope that he might gather some further information respecting his mother. "So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter. He was a large oafish man, a man that seemed deceptively harmless, and some thought him slightly retarded. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her.
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