to her wretched garret and straw to dream of a youth and gaiety now no longer hers. Here she has warmth, light, and society, and the night-house exists for such as she; and if, as is quite as likely as not, she is in league with some of the men around us, here she brings her victim, and then, stupified by drink, she has only to decoy him down some dark passage, and he becomes an easy prey to the sneaking thief who comes skulking up behind. But let us listen—
“Me and my pal we was a-going along the Hedgware-road, and we sor”—
“Hold your tongue,” is the courteous reply.
“What do you mean by making all this row?” cries the landlord, with a horrid oath.
“Now, then, old buffer, another quartern of gin.”
“And a screw of tobacco, master, if you please.”
“Well, old gal, what’ll you drink?”
“Well, I don’t mind, what’ll you stand?”
“Suppose we has arf and arf.”
“Ay, to be sure.”