Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. " "I cannot repent,—I cannot pray," replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour. “How did you become a vampire, then?” He asked. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. Jack was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free with his grace's best burgundy, as well as his grace's favourite housekeeper. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Lord, I am sixty. You've caught the colour and the life. The performance over, he relaxed and closed his eyes.
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