‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. ‘Melusine, if you don’t let go my hand—’ He broke off as she dragged a pocket handkerchief from her sleeve. At any rate she must see me. ” 162 “Mmmm-hmmm. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. She recovered herself, however, with amazing facility. It was convenient for Father Saint-Simon, who could enter this way and prepare in the little room before going up the narrow stair to the chapel above where the nuns waited. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome.
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