Master and missis have been talking all day long about Jack Sheppard, and I'm dying to read his life. Earles said, with a resigned sigh, “but I shall rely upon you to stick to me so long as I do the right thing by you. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. She found the silence comforting, as old people often do.
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