‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. Proceeding along the wall, Jack reached the southern tower, over the battlements of which he clambered, and crossing it, dropped upon the roof of the gate. You are a sisterless man; you have never heard the ordinary talk that goes on at a girls’ boarding-school. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. Hear me, adorable girl! You know not the extent of my devotion. She became more assertive, more defiant. JACK SHEPPARD.
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