Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. During all this time, he had never quitted the iron bar, and he now grasped it with the firm determination of selling his life dearly, if he met with any opposition. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. "Where is he?" asked Jonathan. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. They heard voices inside but stood for a full thirty seconds looking at each other. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad.
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