1. Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. Like the flaws of an old marble. He was mad. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. Only a few weeks ago there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery and the local police. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. He had a great contempt for the sections the “theorizers” produced.
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