How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down 458 XXXI. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Drummond smoked his cigarette meditatively. True, on board the ships she had watched young men from afar, but only with that normal curiosity which is aroused in the presence of any new species. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. ‘You said—who?’ ‘Remenham. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness.
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