Sheppard's habitation terminated a row of old ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint George's Fields. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. And then you go—and half throttle me. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses. In a little while he and she were talking quite easily and agreeably. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free.
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