And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:— "I don't half like this job, Blueskin," he said; "it always went against the grain. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. The same old lines and verses, over and over, until there had come times when shrieking would have relieved her. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. And this is not France, you understand. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off.
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