. Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. This gloom was impossible. "Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. His head bent down, intent on kissing her underneath the showerhead.
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