They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. \" \"Hi, I'm Lucy Albert. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. I shan't drive a hard bargain. "Get it over quickly," said Trenchard, in a whisper to the thief-taker.
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