"I can't help thinking of Jack Sheppard's speech to Mr. Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. To work then he went, and with wonderful industry filed off two of the iron bars. He brought me past this house, and I thought I would call and leave your brother’s letter. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks.
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