" "Prolonging the misery. Thought she was a nun at first. ’ Saling coughed. A silence ensued. That Mr. She no longer felt sick or dizzy, her muscles returned to a relaxed, supple state. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. But to choose this of all moments. "There he is!" cried Winifred, starting up, joyfully, and proving by the exclamation that her thoughts were dwelling upon one subject only. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. But ——” A look checked him. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers.
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