“Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. You’ve got me. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. 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.
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