I was grateful. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget—ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could read him. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. Mr. " "I know; but …" "And sometimes you say out loud: 'That's great stuff!' I never make any sound. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals.
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