The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames—how he had been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms. She wanted to kiss his feet. None this end. And a broken picture that was torn when I hit him with it. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned. I cannot answer that question.
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