Wood entered the room, followed by Thames. The last Meeting between Jack Sheppard and his Mother. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. She recognized the face but could not quite place it. She too had seen. He savored the last solo, the coda. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. “Because you used to be my friend, Lucy, and now I don’t get to see you anymore unless I can get into your house.
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