48 <6> THE FRIDAY NIGHT SHOW The air was chill and the sky overcast and misting. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. “Yes?” he said. Lose not a moment, Hobson. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise.
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