“You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. . Then Capes shifted his eyes to her microscope and the little trays of unmounted sections beside it. “What are you two whispering about?” She turned towards Martin.
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