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He looked at his friend. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. "Stop him!" shouted Jonathan from the stair-head, "stop him! It's Jack Sheppard!" "Give way!" cried Jack fiercely. He inspected the formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the register. "Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. "Ay, robbed him," reiterated Jonathan.
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