"Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. "Are you returning to Hong-Kong to-morrow by the day boat?" For a moment Ruth was astonished at the sound of the spinster's voice. "I beg pardon," he said.
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