" CHAPTER XI. Here Hogarth received a private signal from Thornhill to attract Sheppard's attention. Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. " "Indeed!—who is it?" "Jack Sheppard. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. " "Oh, no!" Ruth protested. The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. To work then he went, and with wonderful industry filed off two of the iron bars. Jack fell on his knees beside her.
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