I didn’t ought to have sent for him. She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. “Dear John,” she whispered. She realized that with a pang of disgust and horror. “I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. The last Meeting between Jack Sheppard and his Mother 419 XXIV. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. “I guess I’m not the only one who wonders about your past.
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