When you send for me I shall come back. “He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. I think too much about myself. I was sitting up, lamenting your departure, dear Thames, when, hearing an odd noise, I went to the landing, and, by the light of a dark lantern, saw Jack Sheppard, stealing up stairs, followed by two men with crape on their faces. It reminded her of one of the old tales her mother Marina had told her about a sculptor named Farhat. Then the storm broke.
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