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. To the duckling, peas, and other delicacies, intended for Mr. The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality.
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