Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. " "Better eat these, even if you don't want them," she urged. It had showed up at an auction at Sotheby’s after someone had sold it.
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