The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. “To-night we are as we have always been. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. ” She glared at him balefully. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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