Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. 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. He walked hastily to the side of the broad pavement and summoned a fiacre. Queer world. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn. . ’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly.
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