And she’s pluck to the backbone. You steered and I rowed stroke. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. The chief influence was her awakening sense of the need of money. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. Lucia liked the doctor though, and he seemed to be very fond of her too. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. ” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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