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From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him. He hated the taste of it. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. "I didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but I thought it right to make you the offer. ‘Me, I have a name. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate.
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