"Now, then, Saint Giles!" interposed Sheppard, "are we to be kept here all night?" "Eh day!" exclaimed Sharples: "wot new-fledged bantam's this?" "One that wants to go to roost," replied Sheppard. The man was my husband. The chamber, into which he stole, like all carpenters' workshops, was crowded with the implements and materials of that ancient and honourable art. Sheppard looked fixedly at him, as if she would penetrate the gloomy depth of his soul. She indicated the captain who had retired behind the sofa.
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