’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne along by that tremendous host, which rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, until it approached the termination of the Edgeware Road. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. Accordingly, he stopped the coach, dismounted, and hastened towards the assemblage, which, he was glad to find, consisted chiefly of a posse of watchmen and other guardians of the night. Still, she knew instinctively that all of Sidney Carton's life had not been put upon the printed page. It was no use.
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