ToC Jack Sheppard, after whistling to Blueskin, hurried down a short thoroughfare leading from Wych Street to the back of Saint Clement's Church, where he found Thames Darrell, who advanced to meet him. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. I shall borrow it and apply it to you, Hilary. Sheppard, whose distress at the consumption of the provisions had been somewhat allayed by the anticipation of the intruder's departure after he had satisfied his appetite, was now terrified in the extreme by seeing a light approach, and hearing footsteps on the stairs. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief.
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