"Well, Sir?" cried the other, eagerly. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out.
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