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You must forgive the poet’s license I take. At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. \"Can I get your ticket?\" He asked her as she approached the vendor. She almost sprang to her feet. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. “All right?” he asked. Her father was an astute businessman and a hard worker, but also handsome in the face which had aided partly his ascension to the Guild.
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