"It is Sheppard—Jack Sheppard—stop him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his heels. Sheppard. What does it matter? It is here, and it is here to stay. I am Jonathan Wild. ” He made a grand gesture towards the car, his smile broadening. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. “About two years ago.
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