Her eyes quizzed the major. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains. " "By Jack Sheppard!" exclaimed the thief-taker. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Her heart swelled to suffocation. Light flooded the place. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. ” “I can’t go back to the Beck’s ever again. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble.
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