Treat me as an elder brother, if you like. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. I don’t know why he was allowed into the system in the first place, but he had two kids of his own. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. While Thames modestly expressed a hope that he might not belie the carpenter's favourable prediction, Jack Sheppard thought fit to mount a small ladder placed against the wall, and, springing with the agility of an ape upon a sort of frame, contrived to sustain short spars and blocks of timber, began to search about for a piece of wood required in the work on which he was engaged. Still he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. Naturally it all came out then.
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