"Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. “My friend,” she said, “I have been your pupil for two years. " As he spoke, a smile crossed Sheppard's countenance. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. See paragraph 1.
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