She saw nothing of their love-making, and came home from her boarding-school in a state of decently suppressed curiosity for Alice’s wedding. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. Above her head was an aura of white fire. Wrenched from their holds, the iron palisades in front of the thief-taker's dwelling were used as weapons to burst open the door. Tom Sheppard was always a close file, and would never tell whom he married. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss.
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