A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. On the way home he was still thoughtful. In the distance a bell clanged, and chattering broke out in the doorway as several nuns came crowding in. It was not a hopeful looking group. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. ’ The lodgekeeper’s jaw fell open.
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