‘Yes, that is what the nuns they said of me. "I'm tired of the life I'm leading. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. I'll not speak of Jack or Jonathan. I’ve been waiting all my life to get out of this town. " "I thought you told me that the rascal who has so long been the terror of the town —Jack Sheppard—was in custody. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. Who invented them? Nobody knows.
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