“The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. Byby. He led her unerringly, pushing her down the narrow stairway that had been the servants’ access to the upper floors, and thence through a small door that led into the chapel. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. So he marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable discovery.
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