But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. It's two hundred pounds. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. " "Oh God!" exclaimed Jack, paralysed by her cries. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer.
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