He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. ” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. ” “Bring her—here,” Hill muttered. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced.
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