In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. ‘Well, that depends. The soldiers surrounded the cart, drew their swords, and by striking the rioters first with the blunt edge of their blades, and afterwards with the sharp points, succeeded in driving them back. A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes no mistake. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately.
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