" "I thought you told me that the rascal who has so long been the terror of the town —Jack Sheppard—was in custody. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. " There was a brief, breathless pause. . Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. "Never heard of a sing-song girl; never heard of a geisha! Flower of the Lotus: the sing-song girl called her that.
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