" Jack Sheppard again sought his pistol, and was only withheld from levelling it at the thief-taker's head, by the hope that he might gather some further information respecting his mother. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. "We shall never be able to get you out unseen, Jack," whispered Poll Maggot. " "You have always spoken it?" "Yes; except for some native.
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