"What is she saying to me?" Ah Cum shrugged. "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. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna.
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