Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did.
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