"I am no murderer," replied Sheppard. I will permit you to rescue me. . She is the wife now of another man. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. The parlour was cluttered but cosy. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. In the general survey of the prison, taken in the preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge.
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