Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. E. Sheppard, somewhat alarmed by this preamble. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. " "Come, lad; let's have it," said McClintock. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith.
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