Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. Wood. Lucy spoke once they had turned the corner. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. "Lost no time on the road—eh!—I didn't expect you till to-morrow at the earliest.
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