Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. 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. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. “I do love you.
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