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“As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. Figg?" said Jack, peevishly. . . Never mind. Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. Twenty guineas, mind. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. On Thursday, the 12th of November, after having endured nearly a month's imprisonment, Jack Sheppard was conveyed from Newgate to Westminster Hall. The lady grasped it more firmly and turned it upon Hilary.
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