Hill sat up on the pavement and mopped the blood from his cheek. Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. . “He is not—I don’t like him. Strongly impregnated with the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life.
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