"Aha!" exclaimed Jackson. “I would give my life for you. The individual twist was always there, even in the cleverest forgeries. The signal of distress was evidently understood. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight. That boy was the carpenter's apprentice, Jack Sheppard. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. “Hey, Mike.
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