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The door opened. The lady whose husband had been Mayor of Hartlepool looked at Anna and sniffed. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. " "At least state your charge. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso. ‘Soldier of fortune.
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