“And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. "He called me a wanton, Hoddy. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. Ramage, speaking the simplest first thought of his heart. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. "Stop thief!" clamoured the rabble behind.
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