” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily. Gentlemen of the Mint," added he, pointing with his truncheon towards Mrs. He looked at her with an expression of comical despair. "See her I will. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. One only. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. Arrived there, the porter thundered at the massive door of the Lodge, which was instantly opened—Shotbolt's note having been received just before. On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her.
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