CHAPTER VI. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. Both the fugitive and his chasers embarked on the Thames. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. “Now you must go,” she said firmly. Youth finds it pleasant sometimes to be melancholy. 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. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature. The point is, I know all the tricks in finding a man. Death belongs to God, young man.
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