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They were loath to admit to the public that the case would be closed in a few years for sheer lack of forensic evidence. Do not believe it, Madam. How Jack Sheppard was again captured. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him.
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