"By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven. He never seemed to take full advantage while they were in his mammoth automobile.
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