No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. ‘Bon. “I wouldn’t make this objection,” Mr. Kneebone, respecting the lawless career of Jack Sheppard, and struck with the probable fate that awaited him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene, fell into a gloomy reverie. Oh, you must believe me. I’ve to collect my sword and hat, and then we must get back to London.
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