Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. "And now to dispose of our dead. 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. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. " "Possibly not," replied Thames, in some confusion; "but I am not at liberty to speak.
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