A curious silence ensued. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice was choked by emotion. His brows drew a little nearer together. "I sha'n't offer any of these to you two," he said; "but I know you won't mind me having an imitation king's peg. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. It is nothing at all for you to worry about. I wouldn't keep an apprentice to set my authority at defiance. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. I am no exception.
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