You, Jack Sheppard, have nothing to fear, as you've become evidence against your accomplice. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. I can decide for myself. ’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell.
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