The woollen-draper looked at his watch. Chapter XXIII MONTAGUE HILL SEES LIGHT AT LAST At exactly ten minutes past ten Annabel rang the bell of her sister’s flat. It’s wrong in the eyes of most people. ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. ‘Poor Mary had no idea about the elopement Nicholas had undertaken,’ she told Gerald. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones.
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