‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. She had lost her nerve, and there was no more freedom in London for her that night. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. “Have you ever been to the opera, Ann Veronica?” said Ramage. “The next question, Miss Anna,” he said, “is how am I to help you? I am wholly at your disposal. It may be useful to you.
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