Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. But, say we're friends. Some rustic hand had written upon the door "JACK SHEPPARD'S CAGE;" and upon the wall was affixed a large placard describing his person, and offering a reward for his capture. I am no one, Gérard. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. These cogitations were interrupted by the entrance of the doctor. "I was afraid it would be so.
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