She would just have to show up and hope for the best. A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. " "Excuse me, Madam," replied the carpenter, turning his back upon her, and sinking into a chair: "Thames, my love, bring me my spectacles. "Oh! that I could live to see it," gasped Jonathan. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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