The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 293: what you’re looking at

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

262 REYNOLDS’ WORKS window, down which anybody might look if lights were burning there, they had similar reasons for avoiding that place. There were certainly other rooms in which they might have met, — such for instance as the back parlour on the ground floor, which served as John Smedley’s work- shop when he had any work to do, but then there was the © fear of the lodger overhearing anything that was said, and thus was it that the scullery served as the most convenient part of the house for the business that was in hand. What this business was will soon transpire, but the reader has already seen that Barney the Burker was the visitor who was expected. He made his appearance with the air of one who was no stranger, but on the contrary was on exceedingly good terms with the gold-beater and the two women. Just nodding familiarly to them all three, he took a seat, dropped his club on one side, and his cap on the other, and then pro- ceeded to help himself to a stiff glass of gin and water. ‘“ Well, this is a night for blue ruin, hot and strong,” he said, grinning so as to display his sharklike teeth, and speaking in a voice that was of habitual hoarseness. “ It’s uncommon cold, and I wonder you ain’t quaking all over with the shivers in this here well of a place.’’ “You see, my good fellow,” replied Smedley, “ that it answers very well as a council-room — ” ‘Come, let’s to business,’’ interrupted Mrs. Smedley, sharply, as she bent a peremptory look upon her husband to silence him, for he was fond of talking, but she was not fond of listening to him. ‘“ My dear Bab, don’t be so fast upon one,”’ rejoined Smed- ley, in a deprecating manner, and here we may observe that his wife’s name was Barbara, for which Bab was used as a diminutive. “ Well, what’s in the wind now?” asked the Burker. ‘“‘T got your message, Jack,” he continued, thus addressing Smedley, ‘‘ which you sent by Tim Scott this arternoon — ”’ “Ah, Tim Scott is a sharp lad,’’ interjected the old woman, “ and I think he’s indebted to you, Barney, for his edication.”’ ‘“‘ Well, ma’am,”’ replied the Burker, “I certainly have done summut in that way for Tim Scott. But he don’t come up to his big brother Bill in artfulness — not by no Gomichbooks (E(0)