Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE.
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