She saw his finger pull back on the hammer of the gun and shrieked a warning just as Jack launched himself forward and Gosse turned and fired. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. . She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard. His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox.
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