ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Penny Dreadfuls, 1850 · page 102 of 400

The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 102: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 102: Penny Dreadfuls, 1850

A restored page from Penny Dreadfuls, 1850. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. | 89 slightly gathering courage from the familiarity of his conduct; but as she placed the spirit-bottles upon the table her handshook visibly and her whole frame trembled with the same nervous agitation. “ Thank’ce, ma’am-——I’ll help myself to a drop of brandy,” said Mobbs; and as he spoke he more than half filled a tumbler with the potent spirit, adding a very moderate quantity of hot water and thrusting his dirty fingers into the sugar-basin to extract a couple of the largest lumps. “And now what has brought you hither this evening, Mr. Mobbs ?” inquired the milliner, affect- ing to be busily employed in snuffing the candles in order that she might avert her countenance as she spoke: then, although the words half suffocated her to give utterance to them, she said, “Any tidings of your friend Mr. Grumley ?” ‘‘ Well—not exactly, ma’am,” returned Mobbe, exhaling that peculiarsigh of pleasure which with many persons follows a draught of some strong and 64 agreeable beverage: ‘‘leastways, I can’t say as yet-——” | “Ah! then youthink you have obtained some clue respecting him ?” cried Mrs. Brace, still keeping her countenance turned from Mobbe: for she /e# that the agonies of her suspense might be read in the workings of her features. “'W ell—to speak candidly, I think I have, ma’am,” said Mobbe: and he emptied his tumbler. “Won't you take some more? Pray help your- self, Mr. Mobbs,” exclaimed the milliner, assuming her most winning tone: and, turning towards him, she threw her agitated looks upon his countenance, “ Thank'ee, ma’am—lI'll help myself,” ho said, meeting her glance and observing that she recoiled from it with a shrinking that extended to her inner- most being. “But you was asking me about Grum- ley—poor Peter Grumley,” hecontinued, in his cold implacable voice; ‘‘and I was telling you as how I had obtained orfancied I'd obtained aclue to him.” ECOMRNIE OO (CO