That was the only sound he heard. ’ He grimaced. But first, we’ve got to secure the convent. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. Sheppard's habitation terminated a row of old ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint George's Fields. Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order. “They might do you good,” she remarked.
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