She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. They were loath to admit to the public that the case would be closed in a few years for sheer lack of forensic evidence. But this is all different. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are. Now the doctor had the "feel" that somewhere ahead lay danger. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. "Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father," interposed Thames.
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