If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. But Jack was too nimble for him. The expression pervading the countenance of the one was vulgarity; of the other, that which is rarely found, except in persons of high birth. It took my breath away. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession.
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