Wood caught hold of Jack's leg, and dragged him off the bench. He barely shook the rose petals from her hair. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth.
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