You have a young lady lodges here; Miss Harlowe, Madam: Is she above?
Sir, Sir, and please your Honour: [the woman is struck with my figure, thought I:] Miss Harlowe, Sir! There is, indeed, such a young lady lodges here—But, but—
But, what, Madam?—I must see her.—One pair of stairs; is it not?— Don't trouble yourself—I shall find her apartment. And was making towards the stairs.
Sir, Sir, the lady, the lady is not at home—she is abroad—she is in the country—
In the country! Not at home!—Impossible! You will not pass this story upon me, good woman. I must see her. I have business of life and death with her.
Indeed, Sir, the lady is not at home! Indeed, Sir, she is abroad!—
She then rung a bell: John, cried she, pray step down!—Indeed, Sir, the lady is not at home.
Down came John, the good man of the house, when I expected one of his journeymen, by her saucy familiarity.
My dear, said she, the gentleman will not believe Miss Harlowe is abroad.
John bowed to my fine clothes: Your servant, Sir,—indeed the lady is abroad. She went out of town this morning by six o'clock—into the country—by the doctor's advice.