The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. I don’t think for a moment that he would recognize you. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall.
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