“Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. " "Unworthy, indeed!" sneered Mrs. Is it so, Annabel?” “I did not know,” she faltered, “anything about you. It was after all a momentary affair. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. "Don't harm him," said Jack, carelessly: "he dares not do it. He sent me home. ” “Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark.
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