It must be the dawn creeping in. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. Then suddenly the curtain would fall. " And, once more enveloping himself in darkness, he pursued his course. It was at the top of the building, and looked clear over a clustering mass of inferior buildings toward Regent’s Park. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind.
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