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. "Tell me frankly, and speak under your breath. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness.
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