He was all alone, too. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. “He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. Day by day she followed the spiritual and physical contest between this man and woman.
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