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“I don’t suppose you’ll be able to do it much,” said Ann Veronica. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet. I really must leave you now. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. ‘Sapristi. But it was not adieu, so she promised her old nurse.
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