How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one.
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