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Updated: June 18, 2025
"You are not a member of the gang of criminals, Miss Ranscomb," replied Shrimpton. "Whether I am or not, I refuse to say a word concerning anyone who has been of service to me," was her stubborn reply. And with that the man from the Criminal Investigation Department had to be content.
But that was only for fear of disobliging the pawnbroker where they had sent it, for Shrimpton afterwards, upon the owner's thirty-four shillings by his wife, had it again, though Ferdinando was very much disobliged that he received but half a crown for his trouble.
The man applied himself to Shrimpton when he was apprehended, begging that he would find a way to help him to his horse again. Shrimpton promised he would, and for a guinea was as good as his word, though the gelding was worth fifteen pounds; but for his watch, nothing either was, or as they pretended could be, told about it.
Forgive me for saying so, miss, but I quite appreciate your point of view. If I were in your place I should regard the matter in just the same light. I, however, wondered whether you had heard news of him during the last day or two." "No. I have heard nothing." "And," he said, "I suppose if you did hear, you would not tell me?" "That is my own affair, Mr. Shrimpton," she replied resentfully.
"Not a word," the girl replied. "And, Mr. Shrimpton, I am growing very concerned. I really can't think that he tried to kill the young Frenchwoman. Why should he?" "Well, because she had connived at his father's death. That seems to be proved." "Then your theory is that it was an act of vengeance?" "Exactly, Miss Ranscomb.
If King George and Lord North think they can starve the people of this town into submission, they will find themselves mistaken," said Tom. "I hope he will compel every one of you to obey the laws, and that whoever had a hand in destroying the tea will suffer for it," Mr. Shrimpton replied. Tom saw the smile fade from the countenance of Mary as she listened to the conversation.
Now, once for all, I tell you I will not have him coming here." Mr. Shrimpton said it with a flushed face, setting his teeth firmly together as he rose from his chair. "Very well, father," said Mary, wiping the tears from her eyes. She knew how irascible he was at times, how he allowed his anger to master reason, and hoped it might pass away. Through the night the words were repeating themselves.
Inured in wickedness and rapine, old in years and covered in offences, they yielded their last breaths at Tyburn, with very little sign of contrition or repentance, on the 17th of February, 1730, Drummond being about fifty, and Shrimpton about thirty years of age. The Life of WILLIAM NEWCOMB, a housebreaker
I never shall forget, Miss Newville, these days and evenings which you, with Berinthia, Tom, Miss Shrimpton, and Roger Stanley have made so enjoyable." "I trust we shall not be like ships that signal each other in mid-ocean, then sail away never to meet again," she replied. She reached out her hand to bid him farewell. It rested willingly in his.
"Finding the red ear?" queried Isaac Coffin. "Oh no, you know I didn't mean that; but having such a jolly time with nobody saying it isn't proper," Miss Shrimpton replied with a blush mantling her cheek. "Ruth, daughter," it was Mrs. Newville calling her to meet other guests, and Miss Newville turned regretfully away, for it was a pleasure to talk with Mr.
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