Sheppard. Mr. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. You'll find her at Black Mary's Hole. He is coming here to tea. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Eric Vorsack still toiled at work. Sebastianus gave Marina tonics and barred Lucia from touching her mother, who yelled in her Gypsy tongue at Lucia to stay away, save the baby.
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