She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. A spacious suite of rooms down the hall John described as “my parents love den” with a grimace as Lucy smiled. "He was hanged that left his drink behind, you know, master," rejoined Sheppard. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Very glad.
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