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A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. Too late now. It dropped sideways and fell with a bang to the table. “Is it any one you know?” Brendon asked. Lots of us are like that. "It'll ease your mind. Sheppard. ’ So that was it. The parlour was cluttered but cosy. Thus died Jack Sheppard. Raising him in his arms, Jonathan passed the rope round his body, and in this way the poor boy was drawn up without difficulty.
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