Further on, there was a small chandler's shop, where Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter, attended by a little girl. ’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. ‘Only me name,’ Kimble said apologetically. Nothing but the publicity of the place and the recollection of that terrible constituency kept him from attempting some perfectly respectful but unmistakable evidence of his sympathy. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was painted. ‘Certainly you must have seen her.
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