On an empty cask, which served him for a chair, and opposite Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity afforded him the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin, encouraging the two women in their odious task, and plying his victim with the glass as often as he deemed it expedient to do so. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. The doctor sensed that his bolt had gone wrong, but he could not tell how or why. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start.
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