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" "No. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. The operation was effected with so much rapidity and so little noise, that even if any one had been on the alert, he could scarcely have detected it. She directed the orchestra to tune again. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. If you have aided Jack Sheppard's escape, you shall owe your discharge to me also. “It’s magnificent!” He leaned back and regarded her with his head a little on one side. Her voice was weak and flat. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. It’s these damned novels. The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last night, told me, to add to my misery, that she occupied a cell near me. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself.
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