The latch came with a weak click. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. "Why, Jack Sheppard, the notorious house-breaker,—him as has robbed half Lunnun, to be sure. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. Least of all myself. ‘I’m only surprised you have not released yourself. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. From none of these could Jack ascertain what had become of Thames, or learn any particulars concerning the family at Dollis Hill, or of his mother.
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