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. "Thames Darrell only waits my mandate to follow him. His foot tapped impatiently, and he took up the papers. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine.
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