“She must go her own way. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger. Only your horror of a grandfather insisted on coming with me, so I had to wait for him to be ready and travel at his pace. ” “One has theories,” said Ann Veronica, radiantly. Her eyes were wide and bright.
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