Thus died Jack Sheppard. That day Gerald had brought her to this excessively careful house, where she had felt very much alone and very unlike herself. "It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. "I'm sorry, Mr. ” He scarcely saw her face again.
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