How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral. She decided to go out into the London afternoon again and get something to eat in an Aerated Bread shop or some such place, and perhaps find a cheap room for herself. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Sheppard's house, "forward!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob, and the whole phalanx was put in motion in that direction. All concerned in the dark transaction must have perished. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment.
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