The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Spare me yet a little while, Father! not for my own sake, but for the sake of this poor babe. How perfectly charming. The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jack Sheppard, by William Harrison Ainsworth This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever.
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