ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. He became really companionable, discussed the new story he had in mind, and asked some questions about colour. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself.
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