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. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. “For better or worse. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. The Closing Scene 472 EPOCH THE FIRST. On his appearance, Jack levelled a pistol at his head. “Cheveney wouldn’t have anything to say about it, as it happens,” he remarked, a little grimly. “Mr.
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