It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. Anna sprang lightly away across the street. Capes made a quick movement as if to bite that aggressive digit, but it withdrew to Ann Veronica’s side. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. He made the universe on those lines.
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