“One can talk without undertones, so to speak,” said Ramage. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all. “Have you anything to ask the witness?” asked the helpful inspector. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. Then instinct took over. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all.
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