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3. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. " Sheppard started to his feet. "And I," muttered Jack. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. ‘What is it that you told him?’ ‘Nothing, miss, I swear. There was a very substantial profit in the transaction, for he paid the natives in commodities—coloured cotton cloths, pipes and tobacco, guns and ammunition, household utensils, cutlery and glass gewgaws. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise. The room was dark and dusty.
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