Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. Wood, in a taunting tone. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. As it was, the mob went on alternately hooting and huzzaing as the names of Wild and Sheppard were pronounced, while some individuals, bolder than the rest, thrust their faces into the coach-window, and assured Jack that he should never be taken to Tyburn. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way.
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