He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. The imbecile. Wanted a clean sweep for elbowroom. . " "Cannot?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features.
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