Without inquiring into the correctness of the latter part of the story, it may be sufficient to state, that Black Mary was a person in whom Jack Sheppard thought he could confide, and, as Edgeworth Bess was incapable of much further exertion, he determined to leave her in the old woman's care till the following night, while he shifted for himself and fulfilled his design—for, however rash or hazardous a project might be, if once conceived, Jack always executed it,—of visiting Jonathan Wild at his house in the Old Bailey. Sydney was watching her eagerly. “Muck-headed moral ass! I ought to have done anything. She only weighed about 100 pounds and she was about 5’9”, much taller than you and I. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. If only Gerald would come. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. Finally she decided that even for an hotel she must look round, and that meanwhile she would “book” her luggage at Waterloo.
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