If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. ” The man contented himself with a nod. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. ’ ‘Woof!’ uttered the sergeant, jumping back.
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