Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. But probably not the truth. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded.
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