The Gift of the Sailor: The String of Pearls & Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

“A-hem! Thank you—yes.” Armed with the poker, the lady of the mansion followed her husband up the staircase, and perhaps we may fairly say that curiosity was as strong a feeling with her as any other in the business. To tell the truth, the shoemaker did not half like the job; but what will a man, who is under proper control at home, not do to keep up the shallow treaty of peace which his compliance produces between him and his better half? Is there anything which a hen-pecked husband dares say he will not do, when the autocrat of his domestic hearth bids him do it? Up—up the long dark staircase they went! Our ancestors, as one of their pieces of wisdom, had a knack of marking steep dark Staircases; and, to tell the truth, there are many modern architects equally ingenious. At length the attic landing was reached. The shoemaker knew the localities of his house better than to make such a mistake as Crotchet had done; so the old lady, with her feet in the pan of water, was saved such another irruption as had already taken place into her peaceful domains. “Now, my dear, knock boldly,” said the lady of the mansion. “Knock like a man.” “Yes, my love.” The shoemaker tapped at the door with about the energy of a fly. The soft appeal produced no effect whatever, and the lady growing impatient, then poised the poker, and dealt the door a blow which induced her husband to start aside, lest the lodger should open it quickly, and rush out in great wrath. All was profoundly still, however; and then they tried the lock, and found it fast. “He’s gone to bed,” said the shoemaker. “He can’t,” said the lady, “for there are no sheets on the bed. Besides, they have not both gone to bed. I tell you what it is. There’s some mystery in this that I should like to find out. Now, all the keys of all the attics are alike. Just wait here, and I’ll borrow Mrs. Macconikie’s.” The shoemaker waited in no small amount of trepidation, while this process of key-borrowing from the old lady who enjoyed a pan of water, took place upon the part of his wife. Q9O9O0GOOO GOnMGoIOO <5) CO)