Already has Holywell Street progressed far towards this consummation. On the southern side of the thoroughfare scarcely a clothes shop remains; and those on the opposite side wear a dirty and miserably dilapidated appearance. The huge masks, which denote the warehouse where masquerading and fancy-attire may be procured on sale or hire, seem to "grin horribly a ghastly smile," as if they knew that their occupation was all but gone. The red-haired ladies who stand at their doors beneath a canopy of grey trousers with black seats, and blue coats with brown elbows—a distant imitation of Joseph's garment of many colours—seem dispirited and care-worn, and no longer watch, with the delighted eyes of maternal affection, their promising offspring playing in the gutters. Their glances are turned towards the east—a sure sign that they meditate an early migration to the pleasant regions which touch upon the Minories.
Holywell Street is now a thoroughfare which no one can decry on the score of reputation: it is, however, impossible to deny that, were the southern range of houses pulled down, the Strand would reap an immense advantage, and a fine road would be opened from the New Church to Saint Clement Danes.
It was about half-past seven in the evening that Ellen Monroe, dressed in the most simple manner, and enveloped in a large cloak, entered Holywell Street.
Her countenance was pale; but its expression was one of resolution and firmness.
She walked slowly along from the west end of the street towards the eastern extremity, glancing anxiously upon the countenances of those traders who stood in front of the second-hand clothes shops.
At length she beheld a female—one of the identical ladies with red hair above alluded to—standing on the threshold of one of those warehouses.
Ellen looked upwards, and perceived all kinds of articles of male attire suspended over the head of this female, and swinging backwards and forwards, like so many men hanging, upon the shop-front.
Ellen paused—glanced wistfully at the Jewess, and appeared to hesitate.
Her manner was so peculiar, that, although the clothes venders do not usually solicit the custom of females, the Jewess immediately exclaimed in a sharp under-tone, "Sell or buy, ma'am?"
Ellen turned, without another moment's hesitation, into the shop.