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 don't think. " "But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer story back of this somewhere. ” “Quite true,” she answered briskly, “and thanks to you I have succeeded. "To me?" gasped Winifred.
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