“Ass!” he went on, still warming. " "Accident or not," rejoined Sheppard; "you're no longer pall of mine. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. These starlings varied in width, according to the bulk of the pier they surrounded. ‘She won’t. Sheppard found it; and, as no one opposed her, she at once took up her abode there; nor was she long in discovering that the dreaded sounds proceeded from the nocturnal gambols of a legion of rats. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead.
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