“I knew Mr. Well, let him be honest. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. " "Then you will stay!" she cried, clapping her hands joyfully, "for I'm sure he won't part with you. " "Mercy!" cried Mrs.
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