Ed. How Jack Sheppard got rid of his Irons. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. ‘You are too shrewd for me, ma’am. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free.
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