“How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas. I was sitting up, lamenting your departure, dear Thames, when, hearing an odd noise, I went to the landing, and, by the light of a dark lantern, saw Jack Sheppard, stealing up stairs, followed by two men with crape on their faces. . For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. "Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames; "but fly—save yourself.
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