"Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. Two or three podgy-looking old men with wives to match, half-a-dozen overdressed girls, and a couple of underdressed American ones, who still wore the clothes in which they had been tramping half over London since breakfast time. " "Oh, a shave and a clean suit will do a lot.
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