The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 368: what you’re looking at

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

THE SMEDLEYS AGAIN 337 Bab Smedley shut the door in the face of the applicant, who seemed much inclined to keep her in discourse. She returned into the parlour, and at once took down the card announcing that lodgings were to be let. She evidently did not much like the visit, and reseating herself, fell into a gloomy reverie, which was only occasionally in- terrupted by a recurrence to the spirits and water. In about twenty minutes after the little incident we have de- scribed, Jack Smedley returned, and Bab at once vented her ill-humour upon him. “What was the use of your keeping that card stuck up in the window? I told you more than once that I would not have it, and yet — ” ‘“‘ But, my dear Bab, do hear reason,’’ interrupted her husband, as he resumed his seat at the table. “Yes, when you can talk it and not before,’’ exclaimed the vigaro. “ But what have you done? ”’ “Those hungry dogs,’ responded Jack, ‘‘ were at the place of appointment, waiting for their weekly money, and I told them where to be the next time it falls due. But don’t you think, Bab, it is a very hard thing we should have to allow these fellows a pound a week —” ‘‘ How can we help ourselves?’’ demanded Mrs. Smedley. “‘Tsn’t there a warrant out for Bill Scott’s apprehension? And isn’t he therefore obliged to play at hide-and-seek? And if his brother Tim was to go out prigging in order to keep them both, wouldn’t he be dogged and followed, so that Bill would be certain to be arrested? There’s no doubt it’s hard enough upon us, but we can’t help ourselves. As for that card there —” “Now do listen, Bab,” said her husband, entreatingly. “When that cursed business at Liverpool exploded, and your mother got into her present trouble, weren’t we obliged to do all we could to keep up the appearance of our own respectability? Didn’t we assure the neighbours that it was totally impossible Mrs. Webber could have committed the deed, that there was some terrible mistake, and that her innocence would transpire on the trial?” “And the neighbours don’t believe us,”’ interjected Bab, sullenly. “No, I’m sorry to say they don’t altogether believe us,”’ responded her husband; “‘ or at least don’t know exactly CORNICLOO© cS (CO)