A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. The flush deck was without wells. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him.
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