“She appears to be very popular here,” she remarked. While this was going on, Jack suddenly made a movement which attracted the turnkey's attention; and during that interval the old man slipped some articles wrapped in a handkerchief into Bess's hands, who instantly secreted them in her bosom. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. He went by another name then,—Rykhart Scherprechter I think he called himself. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. "In spots you are a thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad.
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