" "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. " "Oh! how much I owe him!" said the widow, with fervour, "for bringing me here, and removing me from those dreadful sights and sounds, that would have driven me distracted, even if I had been in my right mind. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred.
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