I felt as though I had bandaged eyes. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. How came you, Sir," he continued, addressing Sheppard, "to venture upon that frame.
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