Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. "We shall meet again ere long, my son," cried Mrs. Acting upon this humane determination, he impelled himself slowly backwards,—for he did not dare to face the blast,—and with incredible labour and fatigue reached the crevice.
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