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Between the two officers, with their arms linked in his, Jack Sheppard was conducted to the cart. " "A white wall is a fool's paper, Jack,—remember that," rejoined Wood. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. Bodies were piled high in the streets, Sebastian went on rounds and would come back late at night, reporting horrors and robberies, death that came within hours, not days. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief.
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