" Jack Sheppard again sought his pistol, and was only withheld from levelling it at the thief-taker's head, by the hope that he might gather some further information respecting his mother. I know there’s a sort of right in your impatience at the slowness of Progress. ‘You, soldiers,’ she yelled. "Shpeak up, vill you?" cried Abraham, rapping his knuckles against the hatch. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements.
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