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. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. . We have played at a little mild lovemaking again. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back.
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