"It's Jonathan Wild come back with a troop of constables at his heels, to search the house," rejoined Mrs. ” “Why do you think so?” she asked. ’ ‘What, Madame Valade?’ demanded Gerald. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. “Why not? It might amuse me. The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne along by that tremendous host, which rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, until it approached the termination of the Edgeware Road.
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