Sheppard. ” “Where?” He asked. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary.
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