“You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. ’ The lady frowned suspiciously. ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. He had reacted by pushing her away, disgust and frustration on his face. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. I swear it. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise.
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