CHAPTER XXVIII. ’ ‘You may arrest me later. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. "Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. "To the best of my belief, Thames Darrell has been murdered by you. Of all the entirely English women I know, you’re the only one with a French accent. "Be silent," said Jonathan, in a menacing whisper. "Are you a poltroon, after all?" "That's it! I ought to have died that night!" "Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by gratitude. Sebastian was a marvelous investigator, a fiery intellect, and a great seducer of both men and women.
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