Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. She paused for a moment. 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 am under police surveillance,” she said. \"Carry your books for you?\" He asked.
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