He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her. Casting a hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink, which gave its name to the street, along which he walked: and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melancholy manner in which the wind whistled through its barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at the water-side. But now Ann Veronica knew what was the matter with her. His father was one of my old customers, and I am happy to find his son treading in his steps. I believe you have had it pulled down, have you not?” “The Misses Pellissier!” he exclaimed. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware.
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