207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. E. " "Perhaps that was it. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. ’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit. ” “Nor I. He looked at his friend. Sheppard's habitation terminated a row of old ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint George's Fields. "May I be cursed," muttered Sheppard, as he slunk away with (as the woollendraper pleasantly observed) 'a couple of boxes in charge,' "if ever I try to be honest again!" "Take a little toasted cheese with the swig, Mr.
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