Spurlock looked up. "'I have succeeded in capturing Jack Sheppard. And nearly all these things were fearfully ill-paid. Your career at the bar had given you a command of language, also a self-control not vouchsafed to us ordinary mortals. ’ ‘But he’s a major of militia, miss. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. The leg and wing of a duck were disposed of by this gentleman in a twinkling; a brace of pigeons and a pound of steak followed with equal celerity; and he had just begun to make a fierce assault upon the eggs and ham. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. " While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped.
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