The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. 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. Gerald crossed back to the window. To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on his betrothed. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. "Well!" cried Mrs. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. " "The Black Lion!" echoed Terence. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. No doubt he has been drinking for days without eating substantially, and his heart gave out. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. She spoke slowly.
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