Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. As he proceeded, other painful reminiscences were aroused. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. Perhaps you'll call that charity: I call it defeating the ends of justice. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica.
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