Such was the enlightened verdict of twelve sapient shopkeepers in the Strand upon John Mundell—peace to his manes! He is gone where there are no discounts—no usury laws—no unredeemed pledges, and no strings of pearls! Good day to you, John Mundell!
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Sweeney Todd. "That affair is settled in an uncommonly satisfactory manner. What an odd thing it is, though, that nobody now comes into my shop, but somebody else, upon some shuffling excuse or another, comes in within two minutes afterwards. Now, if I were superstitious, which—I—I am not—"
Here Todd looked first over his right shoulder and then over his left, with two perceptible shudders.
"If, as I say, I were superstitious which—Hilloa! who's this?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Todd," said a woman in widow's weeds, as she entered the shop, "but they do say that—that—"
"What?" screamed Todd, "what?"
"That you are charitable to the poor."
"Oh, that's all. I—I. That's all. Very good. I am charitable to the poor. Very—very charitable to the poor. What may your business be, madam?"
"You don't know me, Mr. Todd, I dare say, but my name is Slick."
"Slick—Slick? No, madam, I have not the pleasure of knowing you; and may I again ask why I am honoured with the visit?"