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"Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. "You've charged with assisting your comrade, Jack Sheppard, to purloin certain articles of value from a jewel-case belonging to Lady Trafford. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. But it's best to be on the safe side. Each human contact leaves some indelible mark. I like the way you shared it. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. It took my breath away. . His sister appeared.
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