EPOCH THE FIRST, 1703. " "Miscreants!" cried Sheppard, almost driven frantic by the violence of his emotions; "you're all in league with him. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. Every one took him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me.
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