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Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance. "Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. Your poor cheeks are quite sunken and hollow. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years.
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