“Heavens!” exclaimed Ann Veronica, with extraordinary passion. “Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. 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. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. “You must pack for me. “Who?” She asked. He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go.
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