Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. “Yes. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. To be sure," he added, lowering his tone, "they wos little 'uns, and one on 'em was smothered—ough! ough!—how this cough chokes me!" Sheppard, meanwhile, whose hands were at liberty, managed to possess himself, unperceived, of the spike of a halbert, which was lying, apart from the pole, upon a bench near him. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck.
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