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ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. And as for not knowing me, you abominable little liar, you’re perfectly aware that we met at Remenham House. ToC Loaded with the heaviest fetters, and constantly watched by two of the jailers' assistants, who neither quitted him for a single moment, nor suffered any visitor to approach him, Jack Sheppard found all attempts to escape impracticable. "A doctor? What he needs is a good jolt of aromatic spirits of ammonia. Do you hear?" "I do, Sir," replied Austin respectfully. “If any one should know——you should! He was your friend.
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