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Sheppard. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine. I’ve just seen him. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense. “So you come from Anna, do you?” she remarked. He would advise you how to get rid of the fellow. “Okay. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend.
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