FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly. For a space he rode the whirligig. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. “Never heard anything of it. ” “Oh my goodness.
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