It is dull—deadly dull. But Jack eluded their grasp. But he did not follow on with the thought. Mischief bubbled up in her. 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 before she could say a word to arrest him he was at her side. That she had not bought one piece of linen subtly established in Ah Cum's mind the fact that she had no home, that the instinct was not there, or she would have made some purchase against the future. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that.
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