"Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. Your family has not sullied itself by dabbling in it, at least not 173 from what I know, so now is not the time to begin. CHAPTER XXXII. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself.
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