“I know. Kneebone! you would greatly oblige me by surrendering yourself. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. " The lad made no answer, but left the room. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. A pretty piece. " "I shall require them as well," rejoined Sheppard; "and your boots. .
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