So, let's think no more about it. What'syour-name!" "Charcam," replied the attendant, bowing. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. Restraining with an effort his intense curiosity, he talked of general subjects only, trying his best to entertain her. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that.
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