"A bill that a boy left. Something about Churchwardens, sir, and the parish of St. Brides, Fleet Street, and how things mean to—"
"Bah! any one else been?"
"No, sir."
Todd stood in the middle of the shop, and cast his eyes slowly round him, to see that all was as he had left. Then in a low growling tone, he added—
"No peeping and prying, eh? No rummaging in odd corners, and looking at things that don't concern you, eh?"
"Certainly not, sir."
Johanna crept close to the counter upon which lay a tolerably large piece of stone used for grinding razors upon. She thought that would do very well to throw through the window, and she kept an eye upon it with that intent, if such an act should by a trick of Todd's appear to be necessary. Todd took the key of the parlour-door from his pocket, and placed it in the lock. Before he opened the door, though, he turned the handle, and as he did so Johanna thought that he inclined his head and listened attentively. She threw down a chair, which made a lumbering noise.
"Confound you," roared Todd.
He passed into the parlour; but in a moment, with a glance of fury, he looked out, saying—
"You tried this door?"