At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. He said nothing. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. What is he—English or American?" "American. ” “She invited me to dinner anyway. Sheppard. Determined, however, not be taken with life, he held on.
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