Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. Lucy simply added her own good night, even though a significant part of her wanted to call Cathy mother, she refrained. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. Mac would have some new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver.
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