" Jack Sheppard again sought his pistol, and was only withheld from levelling it at the thief-taker's head, by the hope that he might gather some further information respecting his mother. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. David left this afternoon. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. The violence of the collision nearly threw him backwards, and caused him to swerve as he sprang.
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