Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne along by that tremendous host, which rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, until it approached the termination of the Edgeware Road. She smiled.
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