’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. "Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection.
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