“Nonsense, Joe,” said the woman. “What do you want with a trumpery egg? Give the boy a penny back and a twopenny ticket.”
“Well, it’s hardly worth wrangling about,” returned the landlord. “A penny won’t hurt us much either way.”
As they were talking a man came in, and, drawing a large piece of bacon from his pocket, flung it on the counter.
“How much do you want for it?” said the lodging-house keeper.
“Sixpence.”
“Sixpence for a bit of sawney! (stolen bacon). Can’t give more than a joey for it.”
“Hand it over then, you mean ravenous old land shark.”
The money was laid on the counter and collared by the newcomer.
Two children came in. One of them paid for his bed and supper with fish got from the gate (stolen from Billingsgate), and the other with flesh found at Leadenhall (meat stolen from the butchers’ stalls in that market).
“That’s the way to get your grub and your shake-down,” said the woman, addressing herself to Alf.