Manning’s letter. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. She had killed him. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. He deserves none. She glared at him with satisfaction. The attempt was unsuccessful. She felt terrible lying to him. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. Tears started to the young man's eyes on beholding the change, and it was with difficulty he could command himself sufficiently to make the inquiries he desired to do respecting the former owner of the house. Sheppard, averting her face to hide her tears. If you have aided Jack Sheppard's escape, you shall owe your discharge to me also.
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