When about to retire to rest, the rencounter with Jack Sheppard again recurred to him, and he half blamed himself for not acquainting Mr. ‘When you’re my age, you’ll be just as hardheaded. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. We have a great deal to discuss, you and I. But Jack and his companion were already gone. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. He would pull this young fellow back; but later he knew that he would have to fight the boy's lack of will to live. His first reaction had been explosive as the hurts of the past rose up to taunt him.
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