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" "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was painted 385 XVII. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. ‘It does not matter to me if he comes or no, madame. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously.
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