The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 399: what you’re looking at

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

eF LONDON. 307 |” Hunger, cried Clara, pressing her hand to her chest. Oh, I am also dying with hunger. @ cuaniiah rushed out of the room, and returned distantly with the collation which had been pre- pared for herself. Clara’s eyes were filled with tears. Thanks, thanks, she softly said, and then struck, by an involuntary and sudden fear, she added, shuddering: But you cannot always re- main with me; and when you are gone, they will again make me die with hunger. Miserable wretches! to attack you, Clara! an angel of goodness and mercy. But I will defend you. I amas strong asaman,. Let them come. | She paused, having observed that Clara sud- denly became pale, and had closed her eyes with terror. It was Mr. Rowley, with his toxicological amusements. He had entered the room with stealthy, wolf-like steps, as was his custom, and was not a little scandalized upon observing the remains of Clara’s abundant repast. Tut, tut, tut! repeated he, with increasing ill- humour; what is this lady doing here, I pray? The little girl has been eating like an ogre. . Things have come to a pretty pass, i’faith! And. what will the doctor say. if you please? I ask you what you think he will say ? ' Mr. Rowley had addressed these questions to himself, and reflecting on what he had heard Su- sannah say, had withdrawn to a respectful distance and -was not over anxious to excite or confront si her anger, The lovely girl had placed herself Connicloxoolks. corn)