The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. “But I’ve heard that he’s broken up with her three times in the past. I sat within a few feet of him. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. "Be still!" "Oh, come along! I've just got to have my muck bath. On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired; but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back the bolt.
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