"By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. This is a plot entirely abominable, and I scorn to be part of it. “But, how,” he said, sitting up astonished beyond measure, “not go on?” “I have been thinking while you have been talking. It was Annabel who spoke. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. We don’t consider each other; we needn’t.
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