I am the cause of his ill-usage. She felt she had to go on. I wanted to have something to give up. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. He was in the house with his mother. Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat. Yet I think that he will do it. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. The thought of them distressed her without subtracting at all from the oceans of happiness in which she swam. As the woollendraper's back was towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued his passionate addresses. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon.
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