His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. ” Lucy said. “I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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