The Mysteries of London; or, Revelations of the British Metropolis — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

OF LONDON, 85 attempt at being witty, but not suceccedinz ; some- | thing, like—yes, in the devil’s nama. something which—you understand me, you wicked rascal ? Beb laughed very good humouredly. What your honour says is vastly funny, mut- tered Bob; as you say, I want to sell something, of that sort. You come at a bad time; such merchandise is at a low price here—my lord wantsno more of it. That’s uxsfortunate, replied Bob coolly—very unfortunate for his lordship ; for as to myself, d’ye see, Mr. Paterson, there is no fear of my keeping ‘such merchandise, as you call it, long in my ware- house. She is very pretty, then ? asked the steward. An angel—and I should like to make a bet that there are not many angels like her. Mr. Paterson again shrugged his shoulders, Horsedealers always brag of their horses, said he sententiously, Your honour can see her. How old is she P Somewhere about seventeen, perhaps eighteen. Ah, your honour, she is as fresh as a cherry, and — as supple as a willow. She is Braceta, genteel, — fair, medest— How much must I give you ? Bob returned toward the fireplace, and ume | _ his elbow on the chimney piece, said ; i will tell you her name, I will tell you her ade _ dress, and you shall give me thirty guineas. Mr. Paterson reflected a moment; he then rose ~ without saying ancther word, and went toward ‘his secretary, Bob followed him with anxious reaped Pm oe << ~ Comicbooks.com