On an empty cask, which served him for a chair, and opposite Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity afforded him the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin, encouraging the two women in their odious task, and plying his victim with the glass as often as he deemed it expedient to do so. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield.
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