9 <2> THE UNTIMELY DEMISE OF RAY PLOTE Later that night after the dishes were washed and the garbage taken out, Lucy and the Beck's natural daughter retired to their shared bedroom. Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard. "No—Sheppard?" rejoined Wild. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. And he had gone away without knowing the truth! "My proa boys are ready; the wind is brisk; and in an hour we shall be beyond all pursuit. I am a little afraid. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. And I don't want anything of yours destroyed, Hoddy. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers.
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