Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. For yonder went the loneliest man in all God's unhappy world. As in a dream, Melusine saw her faithful footman struck, his headlong progress checked. You represented to us the immaculate Briton, the one Englishman who typified the Saxonism, if I may coin a word, of our race. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness.
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