Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. Muttering something to himself, he appeared to be telling upon his fingers the advantages and disadvantages of some scheme he had in contemplation. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one.
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