Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. He recognised Anna, and at once addressed her. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face.
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