If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. Anna sighed as she reflected that her sister had simply revelled in her indiscretions. I keep it for my own drinking," he added in a lower tone.
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