“What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. And two other ladies. "Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him.
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