“That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. She would rend him limb from limb like a fiend if only she could move. “Oh, Lucy. "It is Sheppard—Jack Sheppard—stop him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his heels. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil.
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