‘That is, if she’s gone that way. In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. And that would spoil it. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. Sheppard. Turning quickly round, in the hope of discovering the thief, he was no less surprised than distressed—for in spite of his faults, the woollen-draper was a good-natured fellow—to perceive Jack Sheppard in custody.
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