Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. Told you how it would be. "He's not to blame," said Jack, rising. You’ll end up dead, that’s what. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. Or I should have made love to you long ago. " "'Thou shalt take no satisfaction for the life of a murderer which is guilty of death, but he shall surely be put to death'," said Wood referring to another text. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual.
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