In this state, he contrived to get the poor black's hand into his mouth, and nearly bit off one of his fingers before the sufferer could be rescued. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. Here I am. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. “You certainly are.
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