The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. Then it dawned. "Can you make me other than a condemned felon? Can you make me not Jack Sheppard?" "No," replied Blueskin; "and I wouldn't if I could. " "And have my escapes really made so much noise as to reach the ear of royalty?" mused Jack. It was her job to keep the house as neat as a pin, up to the high standard that Sheila expected, being a nurse.
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