Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. He smiled. ‘I know that, miss. Good riddance. . " The lad made no answer, but left the room. "Jack Sheppard's fingers are lime-twigs. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness.
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