"Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. Nobody regards Constance or Vee as a delicate trifle. He stamped his last letter as Annabel entered. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. " There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. At this juncture, the sound of oars reached his ears, and he perceived Mr. 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.
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