The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. . Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. " Taking the keys, he led the way, followed by Jonathan, who chuckled internally at the shock that awaited the poor fellow. It was wonderful. "A hundred guineas if you hang Jack Sheppard. ” His walk became a jovial saunter. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank.
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