And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. Wild of the circumstance. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. ” He consumed Irish stew for some moments. There was a maiden aunt who lived in the North who might let her live there for a few weeks until she disappeared. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story.
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