Sheppard, meekly. ” “You may be sure of the one,” she murmured. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. His voice had broken.
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