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. “No,” she said at last; “I’m a human being—not a timid female. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. You'd better lose no time.
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