Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. Muffling up his face, Jack turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps when he heard a man reading aloud an account of his escapes from a newspaper. I know you. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. Turning quickly round, in the hope of discovering the thief, he was no less surprised than distressed—for in spite of his faults, the woollen-draper was a good-natured fellow—to perceive Jack Sheppard in custody. ’ She was backing across the room, moving towards the screen.
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