“I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. Annabel, come to the door with me,” she added a little abruptly. His safety must be looked to. 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. She shook her head.
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