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Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. ” The change in Lady Ferringhall’s manner was subtle but unmistakable. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. She could tell that he was leering at her. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. Would that a certain major might cast upon her such a look. Without inquiring into the correctness of the latter part of the story, it may be sufficient to state, that Black Mary was a person in whom Jack Sheppard thought he could confide, and, as Edgeworth Bess was incapable of much further exertion, he determined to leave her in the old woman's care till the following night, while he shifted for himself and fulfilled his design—for, however rash or hazardous a project might be, if once conceived, Jack always executed it,—of visiting Jonathan Wild at his house in the Old Bailey. Besides, there are greater rascals than Jack Sheppard at liberty, Sir Rowland. Sorry I’m a bit late the first evening.
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