Anna passed serenely out. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. “Lucy Albert, sir.
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