Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. “Let’s go. You, Anna, are one of them. You, Jack Sheppard, have nothing to fear, as you've become evidence against your accomplice. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. ‘That is the man who tries to kill me, but he wounded instead my servant. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. . ’ ‘Ah, that explains your surprise. Well, I was all for dragging in Bow Street there and then, and getting the pair of those fraudsters thrown in gaol. Here's his health likewise. ” “Don’t imperil my reputation before I am established,” she answered, smiling.
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