In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. The area was sparsely populated. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. Almost light-heartedly. “Whenever they try to take hold of life a man intervenes. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him.
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