The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd doubtless wallop me on the jaw. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. ” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling.
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