" Jack could stand no more. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. Spurling, you're a witness to the bet. A wedding procession turned the corner. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. Lucy knocked again. Sheppard—becomes entitled to the estates; which eventually—provided he escaped the gallows—would descend to her son. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. . She looked steadfastly out. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female.
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