It was a letter. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. He shot at me at the ‘Unusual,’ and the magistrates bound him over to keep the peace. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates.
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