PITT, the keeper of Newgate. I have very few friends in Paris. Besides—there is Sir John. No mercenary consideration influences me. I should as soon think of trusting a woman. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. At the same time, Charcam, who seemed perfectly distracted by the recent occurrences, dragged in Thames, leaving Jack Sheppard outside in the custody of the dwarfish Jew. Where is Father Spencer? I must have absolution.
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