’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. The last Meeting between Jack Sheppard and his Mother 419 XXIV. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder.
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