’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. ’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. As it was, the mob went on alternately hooting and huzzaing as the names of Wild and Sheppard were pronounced, while some individuals, bolder than the rest, thrust their faces into the coach-window, and assured Jack that he should never be taken to Tyburn. It wound around a small manufactured lake.
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