In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined. ” “How?” He asked. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack.
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