Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. " "Jack seems to be a great favourite with the fair sex," observed a smirking grocer's apprentice. “You should probably wash all of that stuff off of yourself. It's exactly like a miniature I have in my pocket. It is not for myself I fear.
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