For a time I didn't know we'd ever find you. His chin was angular and his lips were 16 small, his mouth tiny and refined. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. "It is Sheppard—Jack Sheppard—stop him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his heels. Squire and master.
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