‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. Her head rose. He displayed a quite unprofessional vein of mysticism in the matter. People were passing in the street below. "Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. The whole force of the constables, jailers and others was required to keep the crowd out of the Hall. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs.
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