In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. ’ He sighed. He called to the other attendant, who held the torch. ’ A hand seemed to grip in Melusine’s chest and she hit out. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. ’ The lodgekeeper’s jaw fell open. They even threatened to cut the traces and take off the wheels from the carriage.
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