On the floor was a handkerchief, a little
morsel of lace. While Thames modestly expressed a hope that he might not belie the carpenter's
favourable prediction, Jack Sheppard thought fit to mount a small ladder placed
against the wall, and, springing with the agility of an ape upon a sort of frame,
contrived to sustain short spars and blocks of timber, began to search about for a
piece of wood required in the work on which he was engaged. "
"Won't one from me do as well?" interposed Mrs. Burn your palette and your easel. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch
Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she
attributes all her misery. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 27-06-2024 00:06:38