Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. Paul’s, were rich and wonderful with the soft sunshine of London, the softest, the finest grained, the most penetrating and least emphatic sunshine in the world. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. Springing upon the box, he told the coachman to make the best of his way to Saint Giles's.
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