F. My wife—killed me. "Here's the full, true, and particular account of Jack Sheppard's last astonishing and never-to-be-forgotten escape from the Castle of Newgate," bawled the hawker, "with a print of him taken from the life, showing the manner, how he was shackled and handcuffed. She pulled the door so that it was not quite to, and held out her hand, palm up. Adieu!" And, snatching a hasty kiss, he darted after Jack. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. You mustn't go by what you read so much as by what you see and hear.
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