When he reached the happy ending, he waited. To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. I heard rumours of it in Paris, and the place since then has been closed. “Come sit with me, beautiful. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. “But how is it all going to end?” said Mr. Kneebone, respecting the lawless career of Jack Sheppard, and struck with the probable fate that awaited him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene, fell into a gloomy reverie.
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