She had no place she loved. "What is all this, dear Winny?" inquired Thames, as soon as they were alone. His voice now had lost its ironies. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. "I'm quite at your disposal. ” “Where?” He asked.
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