“I believe it is. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. She kept thinking she was thinking about Mr. Warren’s Profession. On an empty cask, which served him for a chair, and opposite Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity afforded him the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin, encouraging the two women in their odious task, and plying his victim with the glass as often as he deemed it expedient to do so. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. She really must not go to that affair. After this occurence, not a word was exchanged between them until they came in sight of the sloop, which was lying at anchor off Wapping. The doctor here says he can get you aboard to-morrow night. It may bring us together again.
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