"I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly. The wall of St. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. There was nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him.
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