You, sir,” he added, turning to Brendon, “had better take my card round to the police station in Werner Street and ask that Detective Dorling be sent round here at once on urgent business. He hanged your first husband. Upon leaning back, he commented, “You look so sad. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. And to think that man got it all out of the poorest little love-story for a respectable titled lady! Have you read of it?” “Never. In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined.
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