“Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. What he there noticed occasioned a marked change in his demeanour. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. It proved to be a human head, though with scarcely a vestige of the features remaining. Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think.
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