“What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. “Oh, Lucy. . Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. She described it so vividly. “I shall have to go through the building. “I’ll turn you here. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. The image did not move. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way.
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