" "What right have you to suppose this, Sir?" demanded Trenchard, sternly. '" "What is that?" she asked. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall rounded upon them all at the club. He thanked God for this talent of his.
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