” He said to her. “Oh, Lucy. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. “You promised faithfully to be there,” he said slowly. He saluted awkwardly. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. ” “It would suit me. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation.
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