\" She opened her eyes widely, as to better appear unworldly and unscathed. McClintock, coming from below, saw them and went forward. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. Yes, I can readily believe it. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END.
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