‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. "The gentleman under the table," she answered.
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