The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. Mr. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. He’s dead. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love.
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